So I will not tell you about my foot and how it swelled like a balloon yesterday. No, you are not here for stories that get podiatrist boners. I understand that. You would rather hear how I took some medication to help ease the swelling and the pain. Dr. Mark, Dr. Maker's Mark to the front tumbler.
If I do have the gout, they say booze is a cause. I say screw them. I call it the cure. Hey, I think that is part of a Mighty Bosstones tune. Hmm...don't see it on the bottom right side in the listing of booze lyrics. Of course, if anyone has any song lyrics to add, step right up and leave them. As long as they are not totally obscure, or dumb, I will put them up. I have quite a variety of artists up there. Metal, hard rock, melodic rock, party (what else do you call Buffet?), blues. Looks like I don't have any country. That may be cuz of all the Cuervo references. Remember, friends don't let friends drink bad tequila.
This weekend looks to be interesting. Drinking for Jesus resumes this weekend. I wonder if I will do mass again if I am there late on Saturday? There is some big eating contest going on a Harley dealership. Some kind of qualifier for the brat eating championship later this summer. You know it is important when the sanctioning body, the IFOCE, is in town to judge. And, no I will not be a contestant.
Now, if they had a beer drinking marathon going on...
2 comments:
I don't know if you want to put up something country but you have that Alan Jackson song, "It's 5 O'clock somewhere." Or from the same song, "Pour me something tall and strong."
Don't forget that age old favorite...
"It coulda been the whiskey, mighta been the gin. Coulda been the three or four six packs, I don't know, but look at the mess I'm in..."
Now that I have successfully implanted the Rovers song in your head, my work here is done.
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