This weekend was full of slovenly behavior, rife with spicy cheeseburgers, the same pair of socks, and pancakes. Well. No pancakes. But the other two were true.

Mun rakas is flying in tomorrow and I am making her take a taxi home all the way from JFK.

The apartment isn't as nasty as it should be, being that mun rakas was away for almost a month. Though I didn't do my laundry, I am blessed to have enough boxer shorts and socks to last through nuclear fallout or a heroin binge.

I should do all my stuff today (laundry, clean up beer bottles, six-pack containers, beer bottle caps, used toilet paper off the floor, put sheets on my bed (after I take it out of the closet), wipe the feces off the walls, make myself dinner, wipe the dinner of the walls, finish the vodka and vicodin, clean out the fridge, wipe dinner off the walls in the fridge, wipe the feces off the handle on the fridge, and watch PTI).
I also have to find a better way to end this post...