Oh, My Aching Head!

   It was epic. The "End Of  The World" bash at my place went well. What I can remember of it at any rate. A bunch of us got together to celebrate the ancient Mayan calendar prediction that the world was to end on December 21, 2012. Yesterday. We all knew it was bullshit, but it made for a great party. At which we all ate and drank far too much.
   The best part was all our guests arrived and left by taxi, meaning no one got behind the wheel sloshed and had their world ended in a tragic accident. I think we ushered the last guest out the door about 3:00 a.m. I think. Then, the missus and I staggered into bed.
   Some 6 hours later, I thought I heard my bride of 30 years groaning in agony. I asked if she was o-kay, and got a response that sounded an awful lot like "Not really. Now fuck off and die". A couple hours after that, she woke me again asking what time it was. I rolled over and looked at our alarm clock and said "Saturday". She asked me to be a little more specific, so I said "there are a bunch of numbers, but they could mean anything". To which I got a response that sounded an awful lot like "Thanks. Now fuck off and die. Or at least fuck off and let ME die".
   I really have no idea when I eventually got up and started popping Advil like it was Pez, but here I am. And after the hangover I'm suffering right now, I almost wish the Mayans were right and the world HAD ended.
   Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to fuck off and die. At least for the rest of today. And maybe Sunday.
   'Nuff said.