It was a Monday just like any other one, I got up around one-thirty (despite the sleeping pill at 12am) and sat in front of the computer reading shit and drinking iced tea like it’s going out of style. I am currently unemployed and I’m pretty cool with that. It gives me time to work on the stories I’m currently writing, and the screenplays I’m currently polishing and gives me to time to catch up on all the TV shows that clutter my DVR/TiVO (I will refer to my DVR as a TiVO even though I don’t have a TiVO anymore just because it sounds cooler). Anyway, I let the dogs out and let them back in, give them a treat, pour myself some iced tea and head back downstairs to the dungeon. I work on a new screenplay I’m writing lets call it Red Dawn-meets-Die Hard, and get hungry so I drive to McDonald’s and grab food and head back home where I park my ass on the couch and watch a TiVO’d episode of One Tree Hill. Yes, I know, but I’ll tell you what, it’s too late to stop watching now.
I’ve become so addicted to this silly show that I can’t stop watching, did Nate cheat, or didn’t he cheat? Who knows or cares? It’s all about the prime time soapy show that continues to baffle me. Even without the lure of the big star Chad Michael Murray or the chick who cries every fucking episode Hilarie Burton I still watch and pray that it’s almost done with. I finish off the episode and there’s still no proof that Nate cheated (I know, right?). I figure after that, I have to reinstate my manhood, so I do a little more writing on a story I’m calling California Dreaming and drop down to watch a movie called Stan Helsing …no reviews here, but let me just tell you that I love Diora Baird, but this movie made suicide seem like the only option. I sat through this shit fest only after viewing the stupid Cartoon All-Stars to the Rescue from like twenty years ago (upon inspecting it was 19 years ago and some months). They were rescuing a confused boy from drugs. The Marijuana to be exact, and the only thing I learned from this movie is that if you smoke pot, a pot cloud follows you and sounds like George C Scott. I also learned that the guy who voiced Michelangelo in the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles cartoon actually did the voice of the Tick in The Tick. Very cool.
After the Stan Helsing debacle, I head upstairs for the Monday Night Football game between the New York Jets and the Miami Dolphins, Dan-O and the Lez are in attendance, my dad is a half hour out, but comes just in time to see a Braylon Edwards TD. Just to get it out there, I’m a die-hard and I mean die-hard Jets fan. Living in Pennsylvania I don’t get too many of the games, but when I do, I’m screaming like a mother-fucking lunatic (I remember watching them end the Titans win streak last year and screaming so loud I had no voice afterward). Therefore this game, I was screaming like a lunatic watching a newly acquired Braylon Edwards finally arrive and then watch the Jets lose a close game to a Dolphin’s team that really deserved to win. I wish they would’ve won, but I’m so used to failure out of them, that it doesn’t really phase me anymore. Needless to say, a good amount of beers were consumed, so I’m pretty drunk when all is said and done and safely maneuver my way back downstairs and lay down in bed and watch How I met your Mother and The Big Bang Theory off the TiVO and pass out.
About two hours later, I wake up sweating my ass off with a ridiculous case of dry mouth and go upstairs drink twelve glasses of water and down three advils. I take a piss and head back downstairs and get back in bed and fall asleep for about two hours before waking up again sweating my ass off. Instead of turning down the head, I try to find the coldest place in the house (which happens to be the living room in the winter, or the third floor) and lay down on the couch and try to catch some z’s, but the z’s aren’t coming because I’m still molting. I get up, take a piss and go back downstairs where I pop on the Owl City album to give it another listen while writing a bit more. I take a break, watch the Toy Story 3 trailer which looks absolutely hilarious (at least Buzz in Spanish) and then I decide that five thirty isn’t a bad time to wake up.