What I think of drunk people and why.
Okie damn dokie, this is gonna bother someone or two.
What in the fucking goddamn awful-ass holy hell is so amazingly transcendingly orgasmically wonderous about getting drunk?! Someone needs to explain this to me intellgently before I can shut up about it.
Seriously. I've been drunk recently in an effort to understand the mysteries of inebriation. It wasn't that great. I had eaten Burger King that night, and besides being louder and having some seriously shitty acid burps, I noticed no real difference in my experience of the evening. Perhaps I wasn't drunk enough? Perhaps I should have drank so much alcohol that my body would need so much of it's own reserves to fight of the poison I had given it that it would temporarily suspend several important brain functions and ultimately my own conciousness until it got the whole toxic mess sorted out? Yeah, that must be what I'm supposed to do: drink so much that I can sleep through the fun part of the weekend, only to wake up for the throwing up/headache part. Ahh, the mark of a true fun and cool person. Vomit and fuzzy memories. No wonder I'm such a loser; my weekends are generally spent lucid in the loving arms of my beautiful girlfriend.
I've missed out this whole time. As soon as I'm done posting this, I'm going to break up with my girlfriend (why the hell am I buying her flowers when I could be buying beer?!) and get sloshed, so I can come back on here, alone and buzzed, and type incoherently about nothing. Yeah! I'm about to live life to the fullest!!!!
Fuck that.
Listen, if you drink, good for you. It's the fun you choose; it's sure as hell not mine. But it's not just because I disagree with your choices that you piss me off. It's that you wave your drunken lifestyle around as if it were a badge of honor, a thing to be coveted and congratulated for. Well, my friend, you'll get none of that from me. You don't wanna hear about what I do with my girlfriend, and I don't wanna hear about how you puked in your friend's trash can full of wop. So if you're going to slowly kill yourself by having the only fun you know and understand, by all means, go ahead. I just don't need to hear about it.
What in the fucking goddamn awful-ass holy hell is so amazingly transcendingly orgasmically wonderous about getting drunk?! Someone needs to explain this to me intellgently before I can shut up about it.
Seriously. I've been drunk recently in an effort to understand the mysteries of inebriation. It wasn't that great. I had eaten Burger King that night, and besides being louder and having some seriously shitty acid burps, I noticed no real difference in my experience of the evening. Perhaps I wasn't drunk enough? Perhaps I should have drank so much alcohol that my body would need so much of it's own reserves to fight of the poison I had given it that it would temporarily suspend several important brain functions and ultimately my own conciousness until it got the whole toxic mess sorted out? Yeah, that must be what I'm supposed to do: drink so much that I can sleep through the fun part of the weekend, only to wake up for the throwing up/headache part. Ahh, the mark of a true fun and cool person. Vomit and fuzzy memories. No wonder I'm such a loser; my weekends are generally spent lucid in the loving arms of my beautiful girlfriend.
I've missed out this whole time. As soon as I'm done posting this, I'm going to break up with my girlfriend (why the hell am I buying her flowers when I could be buying beer?!) and get sloshed, so I can come back on here, alone and buzzed, and type incoherently about nothing. Yeah! I'm about to live life to the fullest!!!!
Fuck that.
Listen, if you drink, good for you. It's the fun you choose; it's sure as hell not mine. But it's not just because I disagree with your choices that you piss me off. It's that you wave your drunken lifestyle around as if it were a badge of honor, a thing to be coveted and congratulated for. Well, my friend, you'll get none of that from me. You don't wanna hear about what I do with my girlfriend, and I don't wanna hear about how you puked in your friend's trash can full of wop. So if you're going to slowly kill yourself by having the only fun you know and understand, by all means, go ahead. I just don't need to hear about it.
