Thursday, July 31, 2008
One Last Thing...
From now on, enjoy free pizza at the VFW Fort Phoenix Post in Fairhaven every Thursday starting at 13:00 (or 1:00pm for all the non-military-time-tellers). Beer and Pizza...the only thing better might be Pussy and Ice Cream.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Pussy or Ice Cream...Some Have Both
Driving into the Poi the other day I came across a sight that I've never seen before, and hopefully, will never witness again. A blue ice cream truck was headed in the opposite direction of which I was traveling and I could plainly see the driver, well, part of him. Sitting facing him was some dirty broad (probably itchy dirty, and definitely freaky dirty) with her leg cocked over the steering wheel. By power of deduction, and because I could only see the top half of the driver's head, I have to assume that this man had his ice cream and ate it too.
I have to admit that I felt a pang of jealousy. Here I was, driving my reverseless car, alone, while some bitch was having her pussy eaten in an ice cream truck while enjoying a Strawberry Shortcake Bar cruising down Rte 6. (Okay, so I can neither confirm nor deny that she was actually eating ice cream while being eaten, but if that were me in that truck, I sure as hell would have been being nourished and delighted.
I have to admit that I felt a pang of jealousy. Here I was, driving my reverseless car, alone, while some bitch was having her pussy eaten in an ice cream truck while enjoying a Strawberry Shortcake Bar cruising down Rte 6. (Okay, so I can neither confirm nor deny that she was actually eating ice cream while being eaten, but if that were me in that truck, I sure as hell would have been being nourished and delighted.
Random Thought #1
"Do you mind if I hum while you talk to me?"
I borrowed this great question from T.W.O. and have used it at at least two of the beer drinking environments in which I find myself on nearly a daily basis. To most, this is not a difficult question, it is pretty straight forward and to the point, yet it never ceases to amaze me how idiotic some people really are. (It's probably through no fault of their own, perhaps their mother is their father's 1st cousin, whose families have intermarried for generations). At first it annoyed me a bit that these people didn't get it, but then I realized that if I asked the question in the first place it obviously meant that I didn't give a shit about what they were saying to begin with and thus placed them in the not-so-bright-please-don't-waste-my-time-pretending-I-want-to-talk-to-you-and-am-interested-in-your-dull-monotonous-life-but-have-to-be-kind-of-nice-to-you-because-I'm-working-and-I-want-your-tip box.
I borrowed this great question from T.W.O. and have used it at at least two of the beer drinking environments in which I find myself on nearly a daily basis. To most, this is not a difficult question, it is pretty straight forward and to the point, yet it never ceases to amaze me how idiotic some people really are. (It's probably through no fault of their own, perhaps their mother is their father's 1st cousin, whose families have intermarried for generations). At first it annoyed me a bit that these people didn't get it, but then I realized that if I asked the question in the first place it obviously meant that I didn't give a shit about what they were saying to begin with and thus placed them in the not-so-bright-please-don't-waste-my-time-pretending-I-want-to-talk-to-you-and-am-interested-in-your-dull-monotonous-life-but-have-to-be-kind-of-nice-to-you-because-I'm-working-and-I-want-your-tip box.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Darkness Lurks in Even the Brightest Heart
Somewhere deep in the annals of our minds we hold secrets not only for ourselves, but for the others we encounter. These are secret hopes and dreams for those we call our friends and acquaintances, and for the most part, they are all rainbows and butterflies. On occasion, however, these secrets find their way out of the darkest parts of the human heart, which can at times, be the scariest place ever to exist.
Sometimes it is the lack of understanding of my fellow human beings that unleashes the darkness, but on this particular occasion it was multiple shots of Jack. What a fucking surprise. (Every encounter that Jack and I have always leads to no good and down paths better left untraveled. That being said, I know better than to drink JD at all, he falls in the same box as Jose, yet over the last week Jack has lured me into his confidences and I've let myself be led astray.) I cannot pinpoint whether it was the 4th or 5th shot that put me over the edge, but somewhere at the 4th and a half shot I found myself angry. No, that's not quite right, I was mad, just plain mad, madder than I'd been in a long time, and I have no idea why. Usually one gets mad at someone or something, or some situation, but not this girl...I evidently just get mad for no particular reason. (Alright, well that's not entirely true, but I really couldn't think of a good reason to be as mad as I was.) Over the next few hours, while I should have been in bed, Jack and I continued our journey into the darkness.
It was during this journey that my anger and madness turned into fury and rage. It was as if the gates of hell had opened up and Satan's minions had been unleashed in my heart. Every disappointment I'd ever experienced, every slight I'd been on the receiving end of, every (bad) relationship now past, every ended friendship, every person who turned out not to be the person I thought they'd be, every lie I've ever been told, every lie I've ever told, every job I have, every drunk I deal with, the basic depravity of people in general, every dream that died along the way, every life I've taken, every life taken from me, and every doubt about myself all came to the surface. Jack and I struggled with these things for hours until sadly, even he had to go.
It would be a gross misconception to say that I actually took anything from this experience. I could say that Jack and I will never have another rendezvous, I could say that I worked through all these things and vanquished all the demons...but that would be all lies. I did, however, come to one or two realizations. First, it has been reconfirmed that I have a close reign on on my rage, and it will almost certainly never get the best of me, thus the rest of the world will almost certainly never be exposed to it. Second, Jack is really not my friend. Sure, we have a great time together...we are both all about wreaking havoc everywhere...but he's one of those friends who brings out the worst in me and should be reduced in status to that of a mere acquaintance.
I used to believe that making the best of every situation built character, then I decided I have enough fucking character and that these situations don't actually build your character, they reveal it. Character isn't just about the ability to see the bright side of things, but to acknowledge, accept, and embrace the darkness within. I used to believe that every person is different and should be judged on his own accord, by his own words and actions, then I realized the patterns of behavior and the diarrhea of the mouth that showed me that most people are the same and there are only a select few who are individuals. The latter of the two groups of people are really the only ones who deserve any kind of time and consideration from my life, and they are more rare than I ever imagined. I used to believe that the darkest place in my heart was small and buried deep, then I discovered that while it lurks just beneath the surface, ready to devour the rainbows and butterflies, it thankfully only rears its powerful head but now and again.
Sometimes it is the lack of understanding of my fellow human beings that unleashes the darkness, but on this particular occasion it was multiple shots of Jack. What a fucking surprise. (Every encounter that Jack and I have always leads to no good and down paths better left untraveled. That being said, I know better than to drink JD at all, he falls in the same box as Jose, yet over the last week Jack has lured me into his confidences and I've let myself be led astray.) I cannot pinpoint whether it was the 4th or 5th shot that put me over the edge, but somewhere at the 4th and a half shot I found myself angry. No, that's not quite right, I was mad, just plain mad, madder than I'd been in a long time, and I have no idea why. Usually one gets mad at someone or something, or some situation, but not this girl...I evidently just get mad for no particular reason. (Alright, well that's not entirely true, but I really couldn't think of a good reason to be as mad as I was.) Over the next few hours, while I should have been in bed, Jack and I continued our journey into the darkness.
It was during this journey that my anger and madness turned into fury and rage. It was as if the gates of hell had opened up and Satan's minions had been unleashed in my heart. Every disappointment I'd ever experienced, every slight I'd been on the receiving end of, every (bad) relationship now past, every ended friendship, every person who turned out not to be the person I thought they'd be, every lie I've ever been told, every lie I've ever told, every job I have, every drunk I deal with, the basic depravity of people in general, every dream that died along the way, every life I've taken, every life taken from me, and every doubt about myself all came to the surface. Jack and I struggled with these things for hours until sadly, even he had to go.
It would be a gross misconception to say that I actually took anything from this experience. I could say that Jack and I will never have another rendezvous, I could say that I worked through all these things and vanquished all the demons...but that would be all lies. I did, however, come to one or two realizations. First, it has been reconfirmed that I have a close reign on on my rage, and it will almost certainly never get the best of me, thus the rest of the world will almost certainly never be exposed to it. Second, Jack is really not my friend. Sure, we have a great time together...we are both all about wreaking havoc everywhere...but he's one of those friends who brings out the worst in me and should be reduced in status to that of a mere acquaintance.
I used to believe that making the best of every situation built character, then I decided I have enough fucking character and that these situations don't actually build your character, they reveal it. Character isn't just about the ability to see the bright side of things, but to acknowledge, accept, and embrace the darkness within. I used to believe that every person is different and should be judged on his own accord, by his own words and actions, then I realized the patterns of behavior and the diarrhea of the mouth that showed me that most people are the same and there are only a select few who are individuals. The latter of the two groups of people are really the only ones who deserve any kind of time and consideration from my life, and they are more rare than I ever imagined. I used to believe that the darkest place in my heart was small and buried deep, then I discovered that while it lurks just beneath the surface, ready to devour the rainbows and butterflies, it thankfully only rears its powerful head but now and again.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Self Indulgence
Today I awoke much too early which sucks for me because this just happens to be my first day off after a marathon weekend. My adventures began in my favorite bar on Mass Ave. (which also happens to be the only bar on Mass Ave I've been in but even so, my favorite). Knowing better than to mix Stoli and Jack in my belly, I began the evening with an excellent Stoli Blackberry drink and a stiff shot of Jack Daniels (thank you Towel Chicken!) Hmm...I'd love to tell you all about the evening, but some of it's a blur, some of it I don't recall, and some of it I'm still working on...What I do recollect from the evening is a short jeep ride with The Wize One (TWO) which I think ended with me nearly going through the windshield...smoking cigars with the HHiC, Monkey, and TWO. What I don't recollect from the evening was revealed to me on Friday. The bruises on my arm...all in good fun of course...the scratch on my leg...who the hell knows where the hell that came from?...and something about taking Dirty Nerds to bed...(I love you Dirty Nerds and if I were a guy I'd seriously consider abducting you from the HHiC and having my way with you, but I'm not so I won't but I still think you're hot!)
Around 2 in the afternoon I thought about heading back towards the Poi, but I was being eaten by the couch, the HHiC bribed me with samiches, and Dirty Nerds wanted to see a movie. What's a girl supposed to do? So I indulged. I stayed, had a samich, went to see a wicked chick flick (Sex and the City and as much as I hate to admit it...it was really good...it actually showed a penis. It was only for a brief moment, but finally, the men are baring it all!), and ended up back at my favorite spot on Mass Ave til the wee hours of the morning and finally made it home...
Just in case you wanted to know, I managed to quit/get fired from one of my jobs on Friday. If you could see my face, you'd see that I'm all broken up over it, I don't know what I'm going to do on Friday nights midnight to 06 now that I'm not waiting tables at a breakfast place for $6.00/hr!!! Okay, that's a lie, I'll probably be indulging in vodka drinks and JD til the wee hours of the morning...
Around 2 in the afternoon I thought about heading back towards the Poi, but I was being eaten by the couch, the HHiC bribed me with samiches, and Dirty Nerds wanted to see a movie. What's a girl supposed to do? So I indulged. I stayed, had a samich, went to see a wicked chick flick (Sex and the City and as much as I hate to admit it...it was really good...it actually showed a penis. It was only for a brief moment, but finally, the men are baring it all!), and ended up back at my favorite spot on Mass Ave til the wee hours of the morning and finally made it home...
Just in case you wanted to know, I managed to quit/get fired from one of my jobs on Friday. If you could see my face, you'd see that I'm all broken up over it, I don't know what I'm going to do on Friday nights midnight to 06 now that I'm not waiting tables at a breakfast place for $6.00/hr!!! Okay, that's a lie, I'll probably be indulging in vodka drinks and JD til the wee hours of the morning...
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Glutton for Punishment
I have come to the realization that I am the most overachieving underachiever I know. It isn't that I know many others, though I'm sure they exist, it's just that somehow most everyone I know has a "real" job and/or a purpose in life while I skate by as a 30something year old college "kid" with 5 current part-time jobs. Don't get me wrong, though there are downfalls to living this kind of lifestyle, it also has its perks and benefits. All those excuses that you college grads used up in your late teens and early twenties are now working quite well for me in my late twenties and early thirties.
Adult (usually my mother): "You drink too much"
Thirty something college kid: (self-explanatory)
Adult: "You stay out too late"
Thirty something college kid: (self-explanatory)
Adult: "You need a real job"
Thirty something college kid: (self-explanatory)
Does this sound like someone making excuses or someone achieving a goal of a degree while making the most of life? I tend to favor the latter...
Anyway, back to the point I think I was trying to make. I am a bartender at 2 VFW's, 1 Capeway Sports Lounge, 1 Blue Lantern Cafe, and a waitress at 1 Scrambler's, I have all these jobs and am still standing still. I have a bit more freedom and a lot less time, but fear not, there is always time to wreak havoc everywhere.
Take, for instance, my planned trip up to the city tomorrow. I figure that since Dirty Nerds, the HHiC, and Monkey Did are forever making weekend trips down to the Poi, it is only right that some (or one) of us make the trip to Beantown every now and again. I've been promised wine by the river, Schlitz on the City Hall lawn, and a guided tour of the Red Line among other things. The question is not whether I am ready for the city, but is the city ready for me?
Adult (usually my mother): "You drink too much"
Thirty something college kid: (self-explanatory)
Adult: "You stay out too late"
Thirty something college kid: (self-explanatory)
Adult: "You need a real job"
Thirty something college kid: (self-explanatory)
Does this sound like someone making excuses or someone achieving a goal of a degree while making the most of life? I tend to favor the latter...
Anyway, back to the point I think I was trying to make. I am a bartender at 2 VFW's, 1 Capeway Sports Lounge, 1 Blue Lantern Cafe, and a waitress at 1 Scrambler's, I have all these jobs and am still standing still. I have a bit more freedom and a lot less time, but fear not, there is always time to wreak havoc everywhere.
Take, for instance, my planned trip up to the city tomorrow. I figure that since Dirty Nerds, the HHiC, and Monkey Did are forever making weekend trips down to the Poi, it is only right that some (or one) of us make the trip to Beantown every now and again. I've been promised wine by the river, Schlitz on the City Hall lawn, and a guided tour of the Red Line among other things. The question is not whether I am ready for the city, but is the city ready for me?
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Lowered Expectations
For those of you who have already become fascinated with my writings, and therefore my wondrous life, and expect this posting to be insightful and inspirational, stop reading right now and go masturbate...you will find that more satisfying than the words to follow. I am currently sitting here, at the fabulous VFW staring at the walls and 3 people. I'm rapidly becoming convinced that the walls have more to offer than these sorry excuses for drinkers. Links (I call him this for 2 reasons: 1) his shirt says Links and 2) he may be the missing link between our cavemen brethren and our highly evolved selves) is busy at his usual activity of scratching lottery tickets and making a mess of my bar. His friend the other fishermen (who doesn't even deserve the thought and effort it takes to come up with a nickname) has been rambling for the last 20 minutes and boasting about how many times he's been in jail. If you're curious as to how many times, let's just say that in my 30 something years on this earth, I have shed less skin cells than days he's spent in jail. I think he has just become my new hero. Bernie, my Jack Daniels/Coors Light connoisseur, is a bit down on his luck just this minute and successfully attempting to drown his sorrows and, bless his heart, mine as well...
This is day 2 that I have unsuccessfully tried to quit smoking. I have succeeded in cutting back quite a bit...as of this afternoon I have officially quit smoking for 36 hours and only had 3 (about to be 4) cigarettes. Perhaps if I start dippin again I'll be doing okay. I am even more cranky than usual and these poor fuckers at the bar are a)bearing the brunt of my unhappiness and b) just plain dumber than Sage's shit stuck to the bottom of my flip flop (sorry Sage, didn't mean to insult your fecal matter!) although, shit on the bottom of your shoe is easier to get rid of than these losers.
I may sound a bit bitter, and I think that I have a bit of a right to be. Those of you who are in the service industry will be able to relate to what I am about to say. I don't hate these people, but I have been at this bar for 5 hours and have made $3.00 in tips. This, in my small world, justifies my lack of enthusiasm and kindness to the patrons of the VFW.
Assuming that my idiot boss will never read this, it is now 15:42 and I'm 4 shots into the day...shall I see how fucked up I can get on duty? The Jailbird and Link just left...can you guess how much I just made off of them? $0.50. Oh yeah, I think I'll have to start pimping my friends on the corner, maybe I'll start with you, Monkey...I could get a fortune for your sweet ass!
Sadly for you, and heartbreaking for me, the VFW nazi-spy has just infiltrated the ranks so I must sign off for now...until the next time remember...pilliage first...then burn!!!
This is day 2 that I have unsuccessfully tried to quit smoking. I have succeeded in cutting back quite a bit...as of this afternoon I have officially quit smoking for 36 hours and only had 3 (about to be 4) cigarettes. Perhaps if I start dippin again I'll be doing okay. I am even more cranky than usual and these poor fuckers at the bar are a)bearing the brunt of my unhappiness and b) just plain dumber than Sage's shit stuck to the bottom of my flip flop (sorry Sage, didn't mean to insult your fecal matter!) although, shit on the bottom of your shoe is easier to get rid of than these losers.
I may sound a bit bitter, and I think that I have a bit of a right to be. Those of you who are in the service industry will be able to relate to what I am about to say. I don't hate these people, but I have been at this bar for 5 hours and have made $3.00 in tips. This, in my small world, justifies my lack of enthusiasm and kindness to the patrons of the VFW.
Assuming that my idiot boss will never read this, it is now 15:42 and I'm 4 shots into the day...shall I see how fucked up I can get on duty? The Jailbird and Link just left...can you guess how much I just made off of them? $0.50. Oh yeah, I think I'll have to start pimping my friends on the corner, maybe I'll start with you, Monkey...I could get a fortune for your sweet ass!
Sadly for you, and heartbreaking for me, the VFW nazi-spy has just infiltrated the ranks so I must sign off for now...until the next time remember...pilliage first...then burn!!!
Monday, July 7, 2008
Deepthroat, Threesomes, and an Obnoxious Fire Crotch
For those of you who don't know, one of my many jobs is bartending at a little hole in the wall just beyond the boundaries of the Poi. It is only a Sunday night gig, but one of the more enjoyable days that I spend making money to spend. Tonight Dirty Nerds, the HHiC, their friend the Towel Chicken (sorry D, the name's only temporary until I get to know you a little better), Ireland's Oldest Ale Drinking America's Finest Beer (my roommate who temporarily bangs fat chicks and makes them do the walk of shame at 3 in the afternoon, but he really and truly is a great guy), and a group of native Mattapoisettians made up the bulk of my crowd, so, as you see Sundays are always good days. That is, until the obnoxious fire crotch and her drunken blond bimbo friend decided to grace us with their presence. For some reason, anyone born between 1984 and 1986 seems to think that the entire universe revolves around them. But I am getting a bit ahead of myself, I digress.
The evening began to get interesting when a couple of regulars stopped by. That in itself is not interesting, nor is it exciting, but it should be known that I hate this twat and think she's a cunt. Yes, I said it and I will shout it from the roof of my one story house. She is absolutely the epitome of a douche nozzle. So the Cunt decides that she is cold, but instead of asking even semi nicely to make her environment a little more comfortable for her, she decides to be a bitch. So me, being the sweetest motherfucker alive, offered to turn off the air. This was her reply. "Uh, yeah, and you can get me a Bud Light while you're at it". Once again, may I remind you that I am the sweetest motherfucker alive, so I retrieved her beer and cranked the air as cold as I could make it. Eat my shit and die Cunt.
Enter the good crowd...
Since I inadvertently omitted many of Saturday's events as I may or may not have had too much to drink, and I may or may not have remembered many things which I can neither confirm nor deny at this time (just a little side bar...if you can't remember that it happened, it never happened), Dirty Nerds and the HHiC helped fill in the blanks. This conversation somehow led to the discovery of certain threesome pictures which, if I go into any detail here I will most definitely need years of therapy to get over. Let's just say that it involved people whom I have no business thinking about naked, let alone involved in a threesome caught on film, and more or less what some would consider deepthroating, yet could also be considered face fucking. I think I just threw up a little in the back of my mouth.
Back to the obnoxious fire crotch.
So these bitches saddle in, and begin to wreak havoc among the normal folk and make complete asses of themselves. OFC begins to fondle and molest PDogg (one of the natives) in trying to get a better view of her tattoos. OFC also rubbed her itty bitty titty nubs on the arm of Ireland's Oldest Ale Drinking America's Finest Beer (who, just for the record claims her tits were really nice and would have banged the shit out of her had she not been so drunk and a wee bit older). These two inserted themselves in a crowd who not only did not want them there, but did not want them there. Every comment, every laugh, and every conversation led the OFC to believe that it was all about her. I despise 22 year olds.
The evening began to get interesting when a couple of regulars stopped by. That in itself is not interesting, nor is it exciting, but it should be known that I hate this twat and think she's a cunt. Yes, I said it and I will shout it from the roof of my one story house. She is absolutely the epitome of a douche nozzle. So the Cunt decides that she is cold, but instead of asking even semi nicely to make her environment a little more comfortable for her, she decides to be a bitch. So me, being the sweetest motherfucker alive, offered to turn off the air. This was her reply. "Uh, yeah, and you can get me a Bud Light while you're at it". Once again, may I remind you that I am the sweetest motherfucker alive, so I retrieved her beer and cranked the air as cold as I could make it. Eat my shit and die Cunt.
Enter the good crowd...
Since I inadvertently omitted many of Saturday's events as I may or may not have had too much to drink, and I may or may not have remembered many things which I can neither confirm nor deny at this time (just a little side bar...if you can't remember that it happened, it never happened), Dirty Nerds and the HHiC helped fill in the blanks. This conversation somehow led to the discovery of certain threesome pictures which, if I go into any detail here I will most definitely need years of therapy to get over. Let's just say that it involved people whom I have no business thinking about naked, let alone involved in a threesome caught on film, and more or less what some would consider deepthroating, yet could also be considered face fucking. I think I just threw up a little in the back of my mouth.
Back to the obnoxious fire crotch.
So these bitches saddle in, and begin to wreak havoc among the normal folk and make complete asses of themselves. OFC begins to fondle and molest PDogg (one of the natives) in trying to get a better view of her tattoos. OFC also rubbed her itty bitty titty nubs on the arm of Ireland's Oldest Ale Drinking America's Finest Beer (who, just for the record claims her tits were really nice and would have banged the shit out of her had she not been so drunk and a wee bit older). These two inserted themselves in a crowd who not only did not want them there, but did not want them there. Every comment, every laugh, and every conversation led the OFC to believe that it was all about her. I despise 22 year olds.
Sunday, July 6, 2008
So this is what it's all about
Within the past year I have been blessed with the opportunity to add a few new people to my repetoire of friends. As we all know, this is a rare and wonderful thing that doesn't come around all that often. One of these fine indivduals just happens to be an eloquent writer (who may still someday write a book) who is also an avid blogger. He has inspired me to attempt my own, and hopefully successful, narrative of the events of my time spent among the living, and the sometimes fucked up thoughts that role through my ever wandering mind. We will have some laughs, and ever so often a cry, and once in a while we may even kick somebody's ass, so sit back, relax, and enjoy the journey...
This happens to be the winding down of the most festive weekend of July, and although sad to see it all end, there is a part of me (especially my liver) that is relieved. The conclusion of the weekend also happens to coincide with the conclusion of a relationship. Well, I guess that calling a relationship would be a slight overexaggeration, as it only lasted for the blink of an eye and ended up being a "relation-shit". Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed most of the brief time we spent together, but what is it about these boys in and around their thirties that makes them so non-confrontational? I am a lover not a fighter, but I am also the tiniest bit of a realist. No offense to you guys out there, but for Christ's sake, grow a pair of balls, grab them, and be honest with people for just two fucking minutes. It's really not that difficult and it will end up making you feel just a bit better about yourselves. Oh, and it moves you out of the Dickhead Box and back into the Human Box. Alright, I am officially over it and him.
The last two days in the Poi are a drunken blur...beer, pudding shots...beer...whiskey...beer...strawberrybombs...beer..."you're a coward and a dickhead"...whiskey...beer..."whose phone number is this???"...beer...Big League Chew...whiskey..."just scrape the top off the fucking cake and eat it!!"...beer...
Any questions?
So now we rest on "The Lord's Day", and swear off drinking and smoking for at least another 24hour period. Sundays are like New Years. Each Sunday I make resolutions for the week. Last week it was to make Pudding Shots, a birthday present, a birthday cake...success...this week it is no smoking, no drinking, and lots of time at the gym...the resolutions grow bigger as the shit grows deeper.
This happens to be the winding down of the most festive weekend of July, and although sad to see it all end, there is a part of me (especially my liver) that is relieved. The conclusion of the weekend also happens to coincide with the conclusion of a relationship. Well, I guess that calling a relationship would be a slight overexaggeration, as it only lasted for the blink of an eye and ended up being a "relation-shit". Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed most of the brief time we spent together, but what is it about these boys in and around their thirties that makes them so non-confrontational? I am a lover not a fighter, but I am also the tiniest bit of a realist. No offense to you guys out there, but for Christ's sake, grow a pair of balls, grab them, and be honest with people for just two fucking minutes. It's really not that difficult and it will end up making you feel just a bit better about yourselves. Oh, and it moves you out of the Dickhead Box and back into the Human Box. Alright, I am officially over it and him.
The last two days in the Poi are a drunken blur...beer, pudding shots...beer...whiskey...beer...strawberrybombs...beer..."you're a coward and a dickhead"...whiskey...beer..."whose phone number is this???"...beer...Big League Chew...whiskey..."just scrape the top off the fucking cake and eat it!!"...beer...
Any questions?
So now we rest on "The Lord's Day", and swear off drinking and smoking for at least another 24hour period. Sundays are like New Years. Each Sunday I make resolutions for the week. Last week it was to make Pudding Shots, a birthday present, a birthday cake...success...this week it is no smoking, no drinking, and lots of time at the gym...the resolutions grow bigger as the shit grows deeper.
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