7:30 Monday morning and I'm already covered in blood. Human blood. And not even the fun kind; this blood's all mine. Damn! Slippery drippery ooey gooey blood. Mmmmmmmmmm blood. Showers and dreams and sodden sheets. Blood.

I've been reading Kevin Smith's blog sporadically for a while now, during this period of anti-Smithdom that has descended upon me since I realized that if we knew each other in real life, K-Smitty would really hate me. But lately he's been writing this surprisingly detailed (well, actually not so surprisingly) multi-part epic tale of the junkiedom and recovery of one Jason Tomcat Mewes. And it's put me right back on the Smith bandwagon, I tells ya. Suddenly he's all types of "my hero." I even watched Clerks special features last night with my pizza and beer and had a swell old time, and I took my signed Silent Bob action figure - which was a stone's throw away from Ebay - and put it up on my wall. It's like the summer of '02 all over again.

The Epic of Mewes begins here.