I Blame the Taco

Yesterday was a momentous day. A Superfantasticextravaganza. It was The Jaunty Lookin' Hobo's Birthday!

Happy Birthday! One more time, from your Pi.

Since he is stashed away in a suburb of London, I decided to celebrate for the both of us...

Enter a mexican restaurant.

Enter, the Monster Margarita.

48oz of Frozen Strawberry Glory.

Oh, I did order a few enchiladas, rice, and a taco...all I ate was the taco. Save the rest for lunch tomorrow, I've got drinkin' to do!

I finished the marg in record time. To the bar...

A few tall long islands later...well, lets just say spontaneous projectile vomiting on the sidewalk is an art.

An ART.

A nice passer-by gave my 'handler' a bottle of water, how thoughtful.

And back to the bar!

This morning was less than stellar. The 40 mile drive to work was excruciating.

Every bump irritated the Evil churning in my stomach. So much so that I had to pull over at a rest stop...

I Blame the Taco.

It wasn't delicious enough to entice me to consume its cheesey compadres.

Had I done that, things might have ended differently.

Or the Sidewalk Art would've been more abstract with varying colors...

Tossing up m'guts is a rare occasion**...so I thought I'd SHARE.

Aren't you glad you stopped by today?

**When it does happen, it's always an event, how else did I become the #1 Google result for 'Puke Sprinkler'