Great Day at the Gormans!

Well, I finally pulled the trigger. Did it. It's done. Things are going to get sweet from here on out. Not sure I deserve the love, but what the heck, I'll take it! Hooray for us!
Madeleina had a sleepover last night. One of her girlfriends from Girl Scouts who's also on her new soccer team and I guess they had a good time, judgeing from the fact that when I got up to pee at 4:58 this AM they were building a fort out of the living room furniture and several sheets while watching a movie and listening to loud music all at the same time.
Italo went out with his pals and invited his livein gal, Sarah---she's been living with us almost two years (Italo, actually)--to join him at the Stockyards at midnight and they came wandering in just about the time I was taking my 5 AM pee. And Marco, who wasn't home then, was sleeping in his bed by my 6 AM wakeup, so he must have snuck in between 5 and 6.
This morning I got up and wrote a new section of my 25-Years of Shamanism piece that I don't think I'll post till you muthafukkas respond at least a few times to Part 3 of that work--then did a food review of the most family-ish family diner in all of Fort Worth, then made breakfast for Madeleina and her pal Liana, then headed out to the yard to test my stomach.
This surgery I've had has got me down. I've not done anything since June 20 except one 8 day trip to the jungle. Other than that I've been a lump and I feel like one. I can't work, I can't do anything but sit at this computer and still my guts are coming together in a gnarly way, like two big fists coming out of my stomach between my sternum and belly-button despite this goshdarned girdle I'm wearing.
So today I fired up the electric push lawn-mower and mowed one of our yards. Hurt like hell. When I finished I checked the stitches and discovered I'd ripped out two quarter-inches of flesh with two stitches, leaving about three in tact and 9 torn open, each having taken a triangle of flesh from the ripped side with them. I still think I have to test the muscles in my stomach or I will always be afraid to use them. The docs said not to lift and push anything till December. I'm impatient and did a heck of a job on the lawn. Of course it almost killed me, but at least I have an idea of where I stand. Not on very solid ground, I'll tell you that.
Followed that up with taking Chepa--who hasn't been nice for a week or so (maybe it's the pregnancy)--out to eat at Wild Buffalo Wings with Madeleina and Sierra. Sarah was working so that was fun. Blew $50 on chicken wings, salad, a beer for Chepa, couple of Jim Beams for me and a couple of virgin pina coladas for Madeleina and Sierra, who blow-gunned a number of patrons via straw with the frozen concoction, creating quite a stir.
And then I came home, and looked into my mail and discovered that a distant relative in Burkina Faso had died and left me, as the only living relative, several millions that are rotting in an English bank. So I wrote to collect them and expect that within a couple of weeks the money will arrive in my bank. HOORAY! Who cares about spending $50 at Buffalo Wild Wings if you've got millions coming in a couple of weeks?
And then since that made me feel so good I went ahead and signed up for a cream that is guaranteed to make my penis twice as fat and 4-6 inches longer. Eat your heart out John Holmes! I'm hot today. Give me a month and I'll be starring in pornos with Brianna Banks. HA!
Today's my day alright. With my new bigger bank account and guaranteed bigger, more desireable penis, I feel strong enough to maybe even sign up for a Master's Degree via the internet, guaranteed in one year or less.
Hoo boy, don't touch me wihout asbestos, cause I'm hot today!