I am a strange kind of exhausted. I've been working like a feind. I mean, I'm talking 15/16 hour days. Sleeping for 4 or 5 hours and doing it again. Strenuous activity too. Not just sitting in an office pushing paper.

It's been good. I'd like to tell you about it, but I am bound to confidentiality.

Anyway, I've been working like this and there's no end in sight. So, I should be thinking about going home and just lapsing into a coma. But I'm not.

Dog-tired at 8AM this morning, all I could think about was a drinking an ice-cold Pale Ale from a brown bottle. If I could have headed straight to a bar, I would have.

I need to get out. I've just been working and working and this really is just not working out for me. I need to be among my people. I need to feel the urban THUMP. I need to wander on the wooden or tiled floor of a bar, beer in my hand, cigarette in another, introducing myself to the locals on stools. Interviewing them with my constant conversation. Finding out who they are; what they were. Feeding the jukebox with my crumpled dollars and pulling out random songs to pleasantly surprise my crowd.

I can see myself sitting and drinking and smoking now. Leaning back on the banquette. Legs crossed. Blowing smoke in the air. Either half listening to what someone is saying, or intently listening, pending my mood and what they have to say.

People watching. Drinking more. Maybe doing a shot. Maybe I need to do shots? Maybe I should order up some champagne? No, no champagne. Just the cold, bitter but slightly fruity taste of a good pale ale. Maybe I should order a pilsner? Or if I went to that little corner place I like in Soho, they carry Weissbeer. I love the weiss, with a lemon. In a tall beer glass - old school and german. Such a treat.

I really cannot wait to get a beer. The DL girls are going dancing tonight. Fuck dancing. I plan on getting myself some nice cold beers and seat and just drinking until I've had enough. In fact, I plan on doubling down all night. They can dance - I will be dancing my tongue around my beer at the nearby table.

I am going to drink myself stupid. And if anyone offers me anything, I'll take that too. Who gives a shit? You only live once.

And I am fucking tired anyway.

PS - Continuing on my pimp role, I am accepting applications for cool boys who live in Phillie and want to date the very RAD (and family member of mine), Marnie2000. Obviously, there will be scrutiny involved because if I get you in that means I also have to spend holidays with you, but I will be objective. M2K is a very cute Irish looking biatch with a bizarre sense of humor. Sings a great chorus to Pop Songs. Also a very good driver. She and I are driving cross country this summer.

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