Phone it in Friday
Have I not done this for like a month? Feels like it’s been a while. I’ve been writing for my job literally all day and am exhausted so I’m really half-assing this one. Here’s what’s happening in George land.
Sad life snippets
Missed my T stop the other week because I was so zoned in on cooking up a parlay. Had to walk an extra quarter mile. Also lost the parlay.
Was at one of those bougie mixology bars that seemingly came out of nowhere in the Seaport and has since closed. Hell of a run. Anyways, I’m chatting the bartenders up all night, shooting the shit about football, their lives back home in Cleveland (shitty) and so much more. Really good vibe guys and great mixologists. End of the night I get up to leave and pull out my trusty container of Zyn. All of a sudden the bartender sprints around from behind the bar and offers me one of his. So I then offer him one of mine. We did a Zyn jersey swap and it was incredible.
I noticed the other day that I don’t really have a winter jacket with any insulation. I then pondered why I’m just noticing this when I’ve been walking around in the cold all winter. Sadly, I came to the realization that my belly fat keeps me so warm that I don’t need an additional layer of insulation. Hoodie and a spring jacket works all day for me.
You know how our brains stop developing at 25 then we just get steadily dumber until we die? The other day I was in a dead zone and tried to join my phone’s hotspot using my phone.
I was at the Patriots game (this should tell you how old these notes are) and was walking out of the bathroom when I saw a free standing hand sanitizer station. Having not washed my hands because who does that after going #1, I thought it would be a good call to sanitize before I got some popcorn. However, there were a bunch of cool looking townie guys right near it and I didn’t want them to think I was a pussy so I just left my hands germy.
I’ve made multiple bargains with God in the past few months to win bets. To His eternal credit, we’ve both held up our ends of the promise. I don’t have a problem.
On New Year’s Eve, (again, really old notes), I promised myself that I would make 2024 my year for getting healthier and really working to improve myself. Twelve minutes into 2024, I was drinking champagne on the toilet so I stayed true to my word.
While down in Florida in early January, I kept getting randomly chirped for being a “big boy” by various Florida scumbags. One guy at a boat launch told me to “be careful big fella” when I stood up on the bow of the boat to toss him the rope and acted like I had never been on a boat before or done this a million times. Then later in the day we were at a bar ordering food and during our banter with the bartender I mentioned that I’m someone who appreciates a good meal and the bartender said “haha no comment.” Bet you’ll have a comment when I jump over that bar and come at you with a Dos Equis bottle. (Nah, he was a nice dude and the comment was fair. Fuck the boat launch guy though).
Put in a service request to get the extractor fan in my bathroom fixed. Only thing is I never check my non-work email and my last landlord was a useless douche who I hope is bankrupt now (fuck you Gavin), so I didn’t realize that he would be coming through the very next day to fix it. Long story short, he knocked on my door while I was sitting on the john, so I had to rapidly finish up, spray an entire container of air freshener and let the poor bastard in to do his work. He ended up having to order replacement parts so he came back a few days later. I forgot he was coming again and opened my door shirtless thinking he was my roommate.
Had a few too many the other night and came home hungry. I try not to keep crap food in the house so I couldn’t make nachos or even a grilled cheese. However, there was some leftover pizza in the fridge that my roommate had ordered for himself and some of his college friends earlier that evening. I ended up eating it, but felt bad because I didn’t ask, so I left $5 in the box as payment.
Was at Top Golf with my fam in Florida and kept instinctively grabbing my shoulder after I shanked a shot to make it seem like I was fighting through an injury and that’s why my game was off. Having said that, and ignoring the fact that my body looks like a tube of cookie dough someone gripped forcefully, I kind of piped this ball.
Fuck it, I’m not even proofreading. Have a great Super Bowl weekend fatties!
