Good morning, friends and Internet strangers. Some of whom, for all I know, may be unhinged, face-eating murderers. I really have no idea. BLAG does not discriminate. You do you.
This will be a short and disjointed one today, and if it reads like I’m tired and on painkillers, it’s because I slept three hours last night, then woke up and took painkillers.
Some might jump to conclusions and assume that this behavior is the result of ill-advised recreational activity. In some ways, it is. I’ve earned myself a partial vacation from work by boarding the H.M.S. Knifeytania, which set sail yesterday morning and arrived a couple of hours later at the idyllic, platinum shores of Anesthesia. I even shaved part of my belly for the trip, so as to look urbane and well-manicured.
Unfortunately, while I dozed, peacefully supine upon a lounger on the upper deck of the Knifeytania, sipping my intravenous cocktail and dreaming of faceless, naked ladies, some asshole put a knife in my gut and I woke up covered in dried orange tang. Also, I think someone did something really weird to my navel and I’m pretty sure air was pumped into me (possibly through said navel?) because I look just pregnant enough for it to be too late to get an abortion in most states.
Anyway, “Nuts to that!” I said to the cabana boy, “I’m continuing my vacation. Wheel out a television set and leave it on C-SPAN all goddamn day.”
“Also,” I continued, halting the boy just as he began to walk away. “Bring me 30 oxycodone. Not for the pain, but because I never want to shit again.”
That’s gonna BLAG it and tag it for this one.