Wealth Of Fatties

See, this one is called "Wealth Of Fatties" because I was looking, and I really liked the "Toward a Feminist Theory of Cake" one. That's a book and so's this. Only I made them better. I made you better, cc.

I had one drink at Ali's and then fell asleep during project runway. Now I'm on this guy eating fritos that look like rigatoni and I was 20 cents short for the taxi, so I was like "ok just let me off here, here is fine, here HERE now NOW remember how I told you at the beginning I only have $8?" and the guy was all "I'll take you the rest of the way, no worries." So that was lame but also amazing. Like the time I got a gyro from a street guy for $2 instead of $3. Everything's relative.

Everything's relative including my relatives, who are coming in tomorrow to Atlanta for the wedding of my cousin Karen. I'll be in town for 48 hours. Just 48 hours? That's all I'll need. I'm going to:
a) get drunk
b) get married
c) get crazy
d) keep an orderly guest book for Karen
e) drive Gabe around
f) cruise him around, really
g) get sleep
h) talk to the guy next to me on the plane (if he's cool-looking (permanent addendum))
i) get NUTSO drunk
in 48 hours.

48 nutso drunk hours of relatives, non-alcoholic wedding receptions, and sober wedding dancing. And yes, Dave Eggers, I admire you that much more for writing that sober wedding dancing thing at the end of You Shall Know Our Velocity!, since it's apparently all I ever do now. That S is difficult.

¡Muy difícil!