two dolla

since i never remember my camera anymore

I shall steal pictures from others to show what I did last night.

After the Twins swept the Sawx, I joined The Posse at Tony Jaro’s River Garden to continue on with The Greenie Century. This is where we drink 100 “Greenies” in the span of a month between all of us. Greenies are green. Apparently, they’re vodka sours with something that turns it green and some special powder Danny the Bartender stirs into it. Yes, they’re special. And they make pink ones, too. Called Pinkies. Cute.

I was only there for a short time, but Cindi gave Matt and I matching sailor tattoos that refer to our love of Greenies and the Gun Show we both put on.

Then I drank some coffee (probably my first coffee ever that wasn’t from Starbucks or Caribou and had whipped cream of some sort on the top) and ate some Tex Mex (that seemed like a really good idea at the time) at the Uptown Diner.

(Thanks to Bill, Cindi, and Jenni for the pictures!)

being responsible is no fun

It’s 3:30 a.m. and I just got home to find my puppy boy has broken a nail on his front paw. I know how he did it, but that’s not the problem. The problem is, what do I do? By the time half of you read this, I’ll probably have already called the vet of the groomer by now, but still… it’s concerning me now and that’s why I have a blog, dammit.

He’s not limping or anything, but the nail is visibly split. If you were in my shoes, would you take him to the vet? I pay $19.95/month for freaking PET INSURANCE. I’m pretty sure this is covered. Or would it be overreacting and should I just yank it off myself? (Ohmigod, I’m cringing at the thought of that right now.)