The Man Without a Face

I'm not going to lie to you. I'm having a pretty hard time getting much done at work today. I have three valid reasons for this. 1) It is Monday. Monday's generally don't go all that well for anyone. 2) I'm on hangover day 2. I might have had too much to drink at Oktoberfest. 3) I'm stressed out. 4) I don't actually exist.

If you hadn't been with me at Oktoberfest on Saturday, you may be wondering what I mean by number 4. Well, to make a long story short (which I will again make long in a minute). Someone stole my wallet from my pocket on Saturday afternoon. Along with all of my earthly identification, credit cards, and my social security card. I spent a few drunken hours Saturday, some time Sunday and again today, making sure that everyone knew that as far as they were concerned, if anyone tries to do anything in my name, it is probably fraudulent. Which will inconvenience me not only for the past few days, but for the next few months in all likelihood, because when it really is me, I'll have to prove it, which is fucking annoying. Who steals a fucking wallet? I think I'm most looking forward to my joint trip to the DMV/Social Security office tomorrow morning. Followed by me laying in traffic trying to get by the largest 18 wheeler on the planet. Seriously though, I would be impressed if whatever dirtbag stole my shit was able to do anything at this point.

OKTOBERFEST RECAP

-Got there around 2:30. Had a shitload of drinks. Thought for some reason that going to John's at like 7:30 was a good idea. Blacked out shortly thereafter. Allegedly aided and abetted in the drinking of two fishbowls. Richard died at like 8. I humped him. My wife stole his iPhone (karma?).

-Woke up on Saturday at 6:45 am to the strong stench of vomit. It turns out that my brother, the Unknown Blogger, took it upon himself to vomit in every square inch of the hotel room. This includes the floor in the bathroom, the toilet, the carpeted floor near the beds, the bed skirt, the bed I was sleeping in, and my suitcase. The vomiting did not awaken anyone in the hotel room, which is incredible. It had to have been like a scene from the Exorcist. It is not humanly possible to vomit that much.

-Got to Brother's at about 8:45 am. Started in on the screwdrivers. Lost count of those quickly. Badgers won handily. Smaller crowd than normal to start the game due to the 11 am start. Was pretty busy by the end. Drinking and barhopping followed. I left Richard passed out by himself at Coconut Joe's. (more karma?) Followed that with having my wallet stolen from my pocket (I felt it happen, but didn't realize what happened until a few minutes later). Panicked calls to police and credit cards. Followed that with going to a bunch of bars with no ID, and whatever cash I had in my pocket. Got surprisingly drunk considering what happened, and the fact that I had debilitating heart burn. Eventually we died fairly early. Longest ride home ever yesterday. OK performance by the Pack. He Who Shall Not Be Named has a horseshoe directly up his ass.