In Which I Encourage the Over-Consumption of Alcohol. Followed by the over-consumption of meat lover’s pizza, followed by the over-consumption of passing out of top of the bed covers, followed by the over-consumption of water, followed by the near over-consumption of roommate’s Weight Smart™ vitamins, followed by the over-consumption of Advil™, followed by additional over-consumption of water.

Alcohol rescued me, children. Seriously. Yesterday, as you could see, I was nearly crushed to death by an overwhelming wave of the blues. It was more like a tsunami, actually. I needed a serotonin fix and quick. Half-hearted internet research revealed that I should exercise and take some St. John’s Wort. Yeah, no. I decided to eat some really bad, greasy, awesome cheesy food -- namely, a cheesesteak with extra cheese and fried onions. But where does one find such a delicacy is New York City? I had little to no energy, so the cheesesteak was scratched. I then decided on my tried and true fall back; the Greatest Homeopathic Remedy for Mysteriously and Bone-Crushingly Overwhelming Sadness: Kraft Velveeta Shells & Cheese. Aw, yeah. You know what I’m talking about! My elation was short-lived, however, as The Muppet denied me. After a few terse, argumentative exchanges via AIM, I decided it wasn’t worth the fight and forsook my desire to eat Shells & Cheese. Instead, I decided to get drunk.

And I did. I got drunk - blissfully, ecstatically, slurringly drunk. I drank and entire bottle of wine on an empty stomach. Luckily, my roommate rescued me with some meat lover’s pizza before disaster struck. I’m ashamed to admit I ate three slices. THREE SLICES!!! Who eats three slices of pizza anymore? Anyway, this all reinforces the hypothesis (my hypothesis), that a bottle o’ wine can cure the world’s ills. Had a bad day at work? Drink a bottle o’wine! Crashed your car? Drink a bottle o’wine! Lost your job? Drink a bottle o’wine! Bored? Drink a bottle o’wine!!!! It really does work. Yesterday, everything sucked. Today, despite being hung over, the world is looking quite fetching, actually. And tonight The Muppet and I have a “date,” during which she is going to ply me with some fabulous Chicken Debbie and big kid treats. Mmm…treats…

This morning, when I woke up at 5 a.m. for the final time, I realized that it’s time to reconcile myself to the suckiness of my blog. This conclusion could only be drawn with the clear head of a wine/pizza hangover. My blog sucks. I’m not even going to try and front. But if I make one person relate, or one person laugh, then I will have touched each and every person who has ever read this blog. HA! I’m sort of not kidding. There are only about four of you. But I don’t care! I will continue to waste your time and my company dime filling the internet universe with my banal, inane observations. Maybe one day I’ll write something real. Who knows? As long as Twerp’s World is turning, you’ll be subjected to every last drop of minutia. That’s not a threat, kids. That’s a promise.

I know I can’t be Dooce, or Anil, or Kottke or any of the other real deals. All I can be is me! So, if that floats your boat, I’m here with a paddle. If not, I don’t know what to tell you. Waste your time elsewhere. I ain’t a great comedienne or pundit. I’m just a squirrell, trying to get a nut. To move your butt, to the dance floor. So, yo, what’s up? Hands in the air! C’mon, say “Yeah!” Everybody over here, everybody over there, the crowd is live and I feel this GROOVE! Party people in the house: Move! (Let your mind) Move! (Put me on line)…

THE MUSIC IS MY LIFE!