I’m sitting in the McDonald’s off West Road and the Sam Houston Tollway. I was lured
here by the promise of free internet access. They don’t have that, but $2.95 for two
hours isn’t bad. I brought a giant sack of mail that I need to go through along with
my laptop. There is no little park for kids to play in here. Instead, there’s a tube
shaped object with multicolored built-in Nintendo consoles with accompanying monitor
encircling it. The outside of the store markets Free Nintendo! There’s kids crowded
around it staring blankly at the screen like cute little video game zombies. Kids can
also play two-player on one console, so that group of kids (the two-player zombies)
play split screen and yell obscenities (in Spanish) at each other. I’ll take some
camera phone pictures and post. What you are lucky to be missing is the bongo and
flute music that has been playing endlessly over the sound system here. This music
would be more appropriate in a bathroom or the elevator or while you’re on hold
waiting for a conference call to start. It is driving me slowly insane… except I’m
so hung over from last night that I’m making an exception.

About last night… I’m here at McDonald’s because I’m recovering from partying at
Number’s Night Club. For some reason I broke the Ancient Rules Of Mark by 1) drinking
a mixed drink instead of beer and 2) smoking. I *never* smoke. I have probably
smoked 110 cigarettes ever — mostly back in college when I was hanging out with my
smoker buddies. Since that time I’ve had girlfriends that smoked while I acquiesced.
This morning I’ve been going through massive nicotine withdrawal. I’m fighting the
constant urge to puke — not easy when you’re also sitting in McDonald’s. I bought
the blandest food I could think of (fries and a fish sandwich). I’m here to look into
their internet access, eat bland food, go through withdrawals, and to talk about the
evils of partying too hard. Once I recover, my goals this weekend are to move out of
my house with the intent of renting it out. This isn’t going to well given that I feel
like I ate roadkill. To make matters worse, my evening was extended beyond 2 AM when
I was invited to an after hours club by That Blonde Girl Wearing Light Up Wires Whose
Name Escapes Me Now. The ”club” was located in an innocent looking house nearby.
The hosts were great. The spiced apple rum, however… Ugh. Want to die. I’m
actually jealous of the dude who just shot himself at that hospital today.