Skullfucked

This week and next week at work (I'm covering two vacations in a four-man department) promise to turn me into

A: (even more of) a raging drunk
B: a violent looney

I would lean toward the former, if I weren't a temporarily destitute new homeowner with no hint of beer money. The latter would be better for my liver, but frankly, I'm too pretty to be thrown into the clink with an offensive-lineman-sized bohunk who has likely seen the horse fucking video. You can see the bind I'm in, right?

Still no sign of our seats via Orbitz or otherwise. Gulp...