Lame

Weekends pass too quickly. There's barely enough time to do your laundry, paint your basement and get drunk, or so it seems; although, sleeping in until near noon doesn't help matters. Did I use that semi-colon correctly? Maybe a few less beer, less exposure to toxic paint fumes, and a few more hours of sleeping in would help me keep my head straight. Looks like somebody's got a case of the Mondays. LAME.

I feel like a character in a Modest Mouse song.