Jerky

This ain't a diary, so I'm going to spare the details of a lengthy yesterday. But I did drink until I threw up, and I did take a picture of it.

I woke up this morning with a screaming headache, and while I'd like to cure it properly, I have more shit to do today. Of course, the first thought that crosses anyone's mind after they decide what they can and cannot do (and that they won't let what they can't do stop them from doing what they can), is to examine last night's folly, and determine exactly what the contents of one's stomach at one time were. That certainly wasn't Wendy's, and I'm pretty sure there was more volume than the 7 cheeze doodles I ate at the bar while talking to a Russian guy from Huron, Ohio about State College, Pennsylvania and the football formations that Syracuse used to use when Jim Brown who was a better lacrosse than football player was there. *deep breath*

Then I sit down at my computer, I find what a hope is a [SWEET!!!! I just found a Redbull-unopened] beverage of some kind. Then I notice an empty package of Pemmican Premium thick cut beef jerky -- all 8 ounces of it, I bet, are now in the garbage can. It was probably the booze, but one can't help but to wonder... 8 ounces is a lot of steak -- but eight ounces of jerky?