Apalling Behavior

Sometimes I am visited by the bad idea bears.  They come skipping inside, and say things like "Hello Joshua!  Why don't you make ridiculous decisions and behave like a complete jack ass?"  I shrug, and say "Well, alright.  Let's go."  And then, all hell breaks loose.  I stumble into work in pitiful shape, if I bother to show up at all.  I wake up three days later with a hangover that makes me feel like a dead opossum.

Witness the progression of my shenanigans:

Abby and D. at the French Quarter Festival, probably around 6pm.

Abby and D at Lafitte's in Exile, probably around 9pm.  

Oh yeah.  We had work tomorrow.  But they had the good sense to leave.  Not me. 

I stayed.  And wound up wandering down Airline Highway at 6:30am, after gnawing off my arm to escape the the clutches of a bad decision.  Have you ever snuck out of someone's house as the sun was rising on a Monday, only to find yourself in a nondescript suburb with no real idea how to get back to where it is appropriate for you to be?  Luckily, I wandered into a gas station and they were kind enough to call me a taxi.

Or, we could consider Friday night, where I hung out at Ohm for, oh, the entire goddamn night drinking an unacceptable amount of vodka and doing coke in the upstairs bathroom.  Oh yeah, I had work the next day.  I showed up 45 minutes late on Saturday in the clothes from the night before, and left an hour early.  Out of three scheduled hours, I got an hour and fifteen minutes on the clock.  After sobering up on Monday, I bought everyone breakfast.  God knows, it was the least I could do.

Next time I see the bad idea bears, I'm going to slit their furry little throats.