Typical Weekday Evening in the Life of Dan

i come home from the lab, hungry, tired, and weary, too tired to cook myself something to eat, too weary even to take a shower.

with what remaining strength i have in me, i procure an ice cold can of coors light (i'm watching my waist here) from the fridge, a frosted glass from the freezer, and i plop myself down on my sofa, in front of a TV that's playing something i'm too tired to watch.

i look at my can of beer and notice that the top of it is slightly misshapen, most likely due to blunt traumatic injury, contorted in such a way that when i pull the tab and try to open the can, only a slit of an opening forms. a tiny, tiny slit, tinier than the tiniest of mongolian palpebral fissures from which my precious golden shower would spill. a challenge, yes, but one that I would rise to the occasion for. did you like how I just ended my paragraph with a transition. snap.

so i'm trying to pour the beer into my frosted glass but it's taking forever for the beer to come out. only a few dribbles are trickling out and i'm sitting there thinking C'MON YOU FUCKER, GET IN MY CUP when out of the blue i come up with the best, most well thought-out idea I've had all week... the type of plan only the tiredest of the tireds (or geniusest of the geniuses) could concoct. i spy my swiss army knife, pull out the blade, and skewer the bottom of the can, creating a shotgun effect. The thing is, it was right about then that everything started happening waaaaaaay too fast for my brain to digest and the beer was about the spill over the edge of my stein and i'm thinking No way am I letting this shit hit the ground rage rage against the dying of the light so i put the can to my mouth and shotgun the motherfucker down. one, two, three, four seconds... and then there were none.

not since the earliest days of my adolesence have i had so much goodness fill me with such rapidity. yeeeah poindexter. you know how i do.

ps: remember how I said "frosted glass from my freezer"? i meant to say "disposable paper daisy cup."

pps: did you like my agatha christie reference. booya.

come to think of it, this is my typical weekend evening too.