Good times, good times . . .

I'm having a pretty good day, I guess. My wife just went to Home Depot to pick up a new light for the backyard, and I've spent the majority of the afternoon cleaning out my garage and drinking beer. I'm feeling pretty spry for an old fucker right now. I'm busting out my cigars, and I anticipate getting pretty torn down by the time I hit the sack.
Hopefully, I won't be too messed up to play with electricity in a few minutes. That's always fun.

I was pretty gung-ho about getting that garage cleaned, but right now I'm more concerned about losing my buzz than anything else. I may call my brother and his wife later to see if they want to come over and join me in my overall shittiness. Nothing like blogging with a buzz, eh?

My wife reminded me earlier today that our anniversary was coming up pretty soon. That'll be eight years. Holy shit. I told her when we got married that it would never last more than five, so she's been throwing that shit in my face for the last three. I can still remember our wedding pictures--I was so fucking pale and hungover that I just wanted to die immediately. And the pictures certainly prove that point. So March 14 is the day when I make it to eight. Who'da thunk it? Maybe it's because I'm such a great fucking guy. Or maybe it's because I'm a real prick with a heart of gold. Either way, drinking is good. And I'm good at it.