I Think The Fugees Said It Best

Ready or not, here I come.

You can't hide. 

Gonna fiiind you, and 

Make you want me. 

-- Le Fetus. 

E-sus Christ, Superstar, is in labor.  

I Drink It Up

Am I like a dead beat dad around these parts or what? Not showing my dirty face or sending the child support payments, just getting my drink on at all hours of the day and night, partying like the old bastard that I am.

Forgive me, dearhearts. It's just that I have been otherwise occupied lately. I'm spending my last few weeks of freedom as irresponsibly as possible, and blogging is way way waaaay too serious an endeavor right now. By my calculations, I've got approximately 8 weekends remaining without child. Tick Tock, friends. Tick fucking Tock.

You know what though? I can't wait to meet my little hija. The little breakdancer kicks the shit out of me each and every night. When E lays behind me, belly to my back, Le Fetus wakes me up out of my restful slumber at least 5 or 6 times a night. Girl's a little night owl, just like her Daddy.