I opened my eyes, rolled over and shut off the alarm clock a mere minute before the French ambulance siren on speed screech could emanate from its tiny speaker. I stretched, unfurled my man blubber, let out a loud clack of a fart and tried to remind myself of why I had the alarm set for 8 a.m. on a Sunday morning. Oh yeah, Wifey asked me to set the alarm, because she had an appointment with the Lord, or was at least going to church to meet up with B-Man who stayed the night at a friend’s house and would be attending 9 a.m. mass with his family.
