So I go to bed early, sober as hell (kids either make you start drinking, or force you to stop; I’m apparently the latter, dagnabbit), and it feels like I was up until 3 AM drinking tequila shots with a third-rate cover band in a Jersey Shore dive bar.
I miss that bar.
Anyway, COFFEE NOW oh, crud, I’m the one who makes it.
PS: Nah, I’m not sick (in either the stomach or the got-the-flu sense). I’m just a middle-aged fart trying to burn off some stress poisons.