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Discussion in 'The Okie Corral' started by The Viking, Feb 28, 2017.
I get myself a beer.
i check out cnet.net
I snooze for 45 minutes and contemplate eating my bedstand glock
when my dog hears me finally stirring up for good shell come hop on the bed and I then get far too excited and give her lots of love before jumping in the shower, where I again contemplate eating my glock. vicious cycle.
Get out of bed.
I'm not clear on when the last time I totally awakened might have been.
Stare at two beagles saying Feed Me!
Grab my bedside laptop, check on GT and think, same sh*t different day.
(We don't care about German immigrants.)
I travel so much for work, that I actually spend the first several seconds of every morning trying to remember where I am and what I'm supposed to do today.
Kind of weird when I wake up at home and it's Saturday.
I wake under a HUGE tent.
Hit the 'room .
Start the tea making.
A cig, still hooked.
Tea vacuum filled, dress for the work-day.
Cuz the future's uncertain and the end is always near.
Take an Obama, then wipe my Soros.
yep, im with kid.
when i wake up i try to figure out where i am. typically beyond exhausted when i pass out and its nowhere i have been before. is kinda disorienting when i wake up until i figure out where i am.
Get up, go to the bathroom, pee, go downstairs and turn on the kettle, make the concoction I call coffee, pour the boiling water, go to our home office room, log on, check Drudge, local news, weather, then GT (where I am now), then either go get ready for work, or on my day off, another cup of coffee.........
Ha! Glad to know I'm not the only one who's first stop is to feed the beasts... I have a giant hound mix that goes to sleep hungry, wakes up starving, and is unable to "sleep in" or allow me to do so. He goes from sound asleep to begging at his bowl at the first sign of my wife or I being awake.
Makes me start every day with a laugh
Eating the Glock, do you mean you are contemplating suicide.
I wake up, turn my head left and right to see what I'm going to be doing today (electric shocks & throbbing = next to nothing, standard throb = regular day, rumbling mutter = get some ish done), resentfully eyeball The Mister and the extra 30 minutes of sleep he gets, slowly roll out of bed, and immediately begin plotting when I can go back to bed. Sometimes the plot goes through, sometimes it doesn't. Today it doesn't, tomorrow it will!
I'm going to hazard a guess that he's using hyperbole to describe how much he hates waking up.
I wake up. I fall out of bed. I drag a comb across my head. I go downstairs and drink a cup. Then, looking up I notice I'm late. I find my coat and grab my hat, and make the bus in seconds flat. I find my way upstairs and have a smoke. Then someone speaks and I go into a dream.