...but without a corkscrew

i'm not drinking at all.

i thought it out. i drink beer and i get fat. i drink red wine and i get stained teeth. i drink rum and i smell like rum. and i'm drunk. i drink white wine and i'm good.

so i bought two bottles at cincinnati's trader joe's.

at home, i realized, no corkscrew.

so no drinky.

went to barnes and noble at newport-on-the-levee in kentucky this evening. bought some birthing books (see blood reds). talked with a nice young lady at the store who has two little ones. she worked book-seller retail until her due date for both. maybe i should have michelle talk to her about stamina and effort.

jk.

jk.

i had a dream last night about the chupacabra being birthed and coming out with preternatural balance and vision and whatever.

i wake up and i remember that she'll just be a blob for four months.

i should be sleeping now, but i guess i should also be learning to function on no sleep at all.

i'm still excited, and i kinda want to fast forward to dad-times, but i guess i can enjoy a trip to turkey to groomsman at the weisel-wedding. michelle has been pretty great about this wedding falling so close to the little monster invasion and being halfway 'round the world. i guess that'll be my chance to really live up to the title of this blog. in two weeks i will drink for three for nine months.

here in the 'nati, i'm not allowed to get drunk because i'm on call 24 hours a day. another few days with no killings and i might get lulled into believing the world is a decent place and i can drink enough for everyone.

then, of course, ring go the bat phone.

charley the chupacabra baba souvlaki cole is gonna be the raddest little girl in my immediate family.

ridiculous.

-dad.