me thinks today would be a stellar day to play a round of hookie and go to the beach.

me also thinks this is just not going to happen.

there are people to meet.

a person to greet.

and a one o’clock meeting in midtown that’s going to throw that daydream believing situation into an overdriven level of impossibility.

[monday, you are awesome.]

only one of these things interests me in the slightest. allow me to bust this secret wide open and let you know that it’s not the meeting in midtown.

 

in completely unrelated news . . .

[which isn’t news at all.]

here’s something to either make or break your monday.

and you’re welcome.

i can’t for the life of me remember how or where i acquired this piece of photographic wonderment, but i do remember posting it on facebook (because why the hell not) and having someone ask me if i was related to these people.

bitch please.

[although for half a heartbeat, i won’t argue that i sort of wish i was. because this looks like a real good time.]

i’m not sure which part i like better:

the american flag wall art, the old lady vomiting into a plastic trash can while also palming a can of what looks to be coors light (boot-n-rally, granny . . . boot-n-fuckin’-rally), or the fact that the dude with the sweetass haircut is tripping his balls off on booze.

or meth.

or both.

and i’m not even going to mention the orange polyester.

except that i am.

ORANGE POLYESTER (!!!)

okay that’s all.

bye.