I Might Have to Change My Name.

I am gay.  Doubly gay, in fact.  BAM!  Consider me out of the closet!  That wasn't hard at all!  I am now The Fat Gay Ho.

I just went on a well-deserved vacation for eight days.  Seriously, if I hadn't had that time off, I probably would've started stabbing people with sharpened pencils or broken bottles.  I'm not sure how I would've handled this weekend if it hadn't been my first three days back after that much needed rest.  It probably would've involved shanking.

Friday, my first day back, was fine.  Besides forgetting some people's points accounts, figuring out all the new items we had, and what was on sale that week, everything went smoothly despite how busy it was.  Saturday is when things got all gay.  Gayer than this picture:

That's pretty gay.

Never Be Ashamed to Buy Your Own Lube.

Saturday night at work was the busiest night I've worked since before Christmas.  There was a great combination of circumstances that lead to this, but mostly I think it was just that time to get fucking wasted.

January is usually pretty slow, everyone's bogged down with bills or has drank their fill through the holiday season and hasn't quite yet forsaken their resolutions to not drink ever again.  Considering that most people's resolutions, particularly those to never drink ever again, usually come across like a 16-year-old's protestations of future sobriety an hour after downing their first micky of white rum and then puking in five different places that night, I don't really have any respect for them.  Empty threats, things that will be said and never done.  I totally respect people when they do decide to stop drinking, forever or for a certain time period, but the vow usually has a different level of sincerity when it's spat out between mouthfuls of vomit and tears as you cry into the shrub by the front door.