If someone else would say that thing, don’t write it. And don’t use the same words other people do. Make sure it’s all gold. Then cut out everything you possibly can, cut it till it bleeds. Soon you’ll have something that’s only yours. The Bible says there’s nothing new under the sun, but the Bible also says that woman can be salt pillars. Ignore the Good Book, and go forth and make some good shit.
My other drunk posts are sarcastically titled; I always write them sober. But this one is real. Let’s go. Need to stay up sip water and write so I don’t have a hangover tomorrow. Earlier tonight, I was going to stay in and figure out my life (all of it!) but my girlfriend was dancing at a club on the lake so I went to that. Ended up putting down
some a lot of champagne. This Singaporean financier’s birthday party was going on, I got invited to the table because I’m tall and white. Slaves by the table to refill our flutes. So much fucking champagne. I couldn’t hear anything that was said but I acted like I could. I’m good at nodding and laughing. The rich guy guessed I was 35. People always say that. I’m 28. Moisturizing isn’t fooling anyone. I’m old, I look old, but I still can’t believe it. I might never accept it, my maturity might never catch up to my looks.
I was offered ketamine, which I had to Google, and is apparently what alcohol wants to be when it grows up. I didn’t take any but I did suck two balloons of nitrous oxide. It only lasts a minute, but, goddamn. Why didn’t anyone give me this shit earlier. Think of the happiest drunk you’ve ever had, multiply it by a million. Now commences my hippie phase. This should be free, maaaan. Why do we send people to jail for getting a little high, maaaaaaan.
Drugs are good, intoxication is good. Because when I drink to excess, I feel guilty and snap back hard into a holistic lifestyle. Work out for two hours a day and eat green peppers, clean up the temple that is my body. I would never treat myself right if I didn’t damage myself first.
Drugs are good because life is hard. The reason early humans kept brewing alcohol is because socializing is stressful. But they realized: This rotten corn we drink makes mingling easier; let’s keep it up. Back in the day you didn’t know if a stranger was going to kill you or not. That’s why we’re afraid of them, why it’s hard to talk to them. Leftover Neanderthal instincts. God is a bitch and he made us broken and flat, made interpersonal skills a fucking chore to attain, what with our brains soaked 24-7 in an imbalanced chemical cocktail, sometimes we need a boost. And if you can make it through your entire life without a boost then fuck you, Mitt Romney. Must be nice.
I’m on WordPress, liking posts I haven’t read. I don’t read any of them, except yours.