Never Again ...

That's what most people say when they have that infamous night of boozing that leaves one without any self account for what really happened.

I had that night last night/this morning, and thankfully I didn't wake up hung over or anything like that. But the stories told to me about my festive attitude toward life last night truly meant that I should have been hung over.

I think I said something ignorant to every person I knew last night, andhad no recollection of it.
To soulmistress, I continually said "so you think you're funny?" and for what reason I didn't know why. It didn't make much sense.

(I know I didn't have the Never Again syndrome because I had half a bottle of wine tonight with dinner.)

But everyone I talked to today had a story, which got me thinking ...

Wouldn't this make a good movie: a story of the stories told the day after a major college party or young professional outing. There are so many good stories that come out of a good party or outing. All the who was feeling who. Who left with who. How much you had to drink. How ignorant the DJ was. ... so much material.

I think I'd call it "The Mourning After."

Anyway, it's late. I'm sleepy, and I've still got a two-hour drive ahead of me. I'll holler at you when I'm back in Kansas, Toto. Until then, don't get swept away by any tornadoes or anything.