Good chance I'll be slobbering somewhere, probably passed out

I worked all weekend. Saturday, I went to work at 5pm and didn't get off work until around 4:30 in the morning. Eleven and a half hours. I made $140 in tips but just kept wanting to leave and go get drunk. Fuck, when I finally got off work, someone gave me a beer and I was so tired I couldn't even drink it.

I can already tell you that this post is going to be even more pointless than the rest of them. By you, I mean the zero people that read this. I'm just drunk and feel like rambling.

Fuck man, when I was working that eleven and a half Saturday, I was making a delivery and some cocksucker side swiped my car and sped off. I hope you die cocksucker. Speaking of fucked up cars, my car started smoking at work today. I know, right? It was only made in 2001. Eight years old is too young to start smoking. It has a pretty gnarly oil leak though, and that shit started burning on the engine block. As I was checking it out, I burned my hand on the engine and the asshole in the "my dick is so small I have to drive a giant truck to compensate" truck next to my started laughing. Asshole.

For the most part, this whole thing is about people that I hate for temporarily giving me a hard time.

I have to write a paper this week. Five to seven pages on a female anarchist revolutionary in 19th century tsarist Russia. I've spent the last few hours in the bowels of the Gorgas Library. Vera Figner is becoming more and more of an intriguing person to me. She married so she could move to Zurich, Switzerland and study medicine and along the way became a revolutionary who helped in the 1881 assassination of Tsar Alexander II, was arrested, and spent 25 years in prison. Interesting shit. The only time I walked away from the book was to get a cup of coffee, and post this piece of literary ejaculation on the Blogspot.

I was rambling through the library and found a goldmine of things that I would have shit myself for in high school. Books about the Soviet Union, books by Bakunin and Emma Goldman. Books by anarchists and socialists and communists and radicals and revolutionaries. I'm getting a chub just thinking about it.

The coffee shop in the library has organic, un-dyed, pure cane sugar with molasses. It's made my coffee taste much better. It's also Hawaiian sugar, so I'm doing good things for America.

Okay, I should probably stop rambling now and get back to the memoirs of Ms. Figner. I want to go in the the direction of her early education, radicalization, struggles with her upbringing as a member of the gentry against her new socialist and revolutionary ideals, eventual revolutionary work in Odessa and St. Petersburg and elsewhere, her involvement in the assassination of Alexander II, and eventual time in the clink. Here's to hoping that this saves my grade in Imperial Russian history.

Until next time, Cheers!