Got hammered last night.

The department threw a going away party at The Whiskey (in the W) for our assignment editor, an old school employee of 15 years. An open bar on an empty stomach spells disaster. And it was. People were falling over, breakin’ shit. Some tossed their cookies at work today. Other, like myself, just moved veeeery slowly.

Which is tough to do, ‘cuz with the Grammys in two weeks, this impending Iraq ugliness, plus all the other business we do, work is insane. Which combined with rockin’ with the Cockfight, and binge drinking (I kid!) leaves little time for anything else. the real test comes in the morning: there’s a 15k in Central Park.

Think I’ll make it?

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