December 9th, 2001


Retirement Preparation

I'm convinced that there's a separate circle of hell where the damned must spend eternity at Target on a Saturday afternoon before Christmas, getting in fistfights with other sinners over moderately priced flannel sheets, hoarding Harry Potter Toys and rummaging through shelf after shelf of movies like Heartbreakers and The Wedding Planner.

Friday night, I had the pleasure of meeing moosifer and matic face to face at Rob and Andy's housewarmed kill-the-keg party. But after a long night of drinking games, Grand Theft Auto, and more drinking games, tonight's restful R & R was in order. Mick, my brother, one of his fraternity brothers and his wife came over so we could play and get another lesson on the game of Bridge. Apparently, compared to Bridge, all other card games are masturbation. So far, I'm enjoying it, but there are scads of nuances and jargon that I have yet to perfect.

I will master the game. If for no other reason than when I am old and put in a nursing home, I can pretend not to know how to play and shark the diapers off my fellow old people.
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