at some point last nite after fondue it was the requisite get mad at fil for being uptight and saying something stupid routine. he said i am a firework on a stack of hay or whatever and yeah he may be right but still i do what i do and that’s that. how can i be expected to enjoy myself if i can’t say what i want to say and how i want to say it? i guess i could make an effort to be less obnoxious but FT! i look around me and no one else is trying so whatever, why should i bother when people don’t bite their tongues and are as equally rude to me?
and everyone who disagreed with me about the book excerpt can go blow, don’t take things out of context. i’m not in the mood for an ethical debate about boozing at the age of 22 vs. the age of 30.
also, just cos i have friends to hang with and drink with doesn’t mean i’m not lonely, there is no typical way of an alcoholic’s life or a depressed person’s for that matter. i spend everyday from 8am to 6pm more or less ALONE everday, why the fuck do you think i am blogging so much. i don’t know how to function properly during the day and around people unless we are all watching tv together.
anyway enough about me, let’s discuss YOUR problems today.
In the beginning you try and make the drinking bit of your life appear to be as glamorous as possible and for a while there you get away with it but then all of a sudden your beer gut is not going away and you turn into a poor man’s Tara Reid except with nicer tits.
You lose the capacity to attain a drunken stupor. It only happens when you’re with ten other people and you drink for several hours straight and mix everything under the sun and this probably means nothing to those who party every weekend and consider that alcoholism and are thinking in their heads yeah whatever I know what she is talking about.
No, you don’t.
When you are drinking every single day, talking daylight hours to roughly one in the morning, that, is, alcoholism. So shut up.
Alcoholism is not a dance floor on a Friday night with a tie around your head and friends from out of town that spills into Saturday and Sunday morning and then you get back to the regular. With alcoholism the music never stops and you are always dancing whether you like it or not.
There’s a moment of happiness here and there scattered throughout when you look inside of yourself and go hey man I feel good, I feel buzzed, this is alright.
But it never lasts.
As pre-mentioned, your memory just, disappears. It’s a bit scary at first because it’s like a message to you that you might have a little bit of a problem, you can’t pinpoint certain events of the night previous. Did I fuck that guy? Did I say something bad? How did I get from that one bar to that girl’s place? Did I take a cab?
And so on.
But that’s what we want when we drink right? That’s what depressives want. We want time to just go away and we use booze to make that happen and what’s great is there’s always another like you at the bar and if you’re lucky that somebody is worse off and then you are allowed to feel relief because that dude has been up shit creek several times over and you, well, you’ve only just now rented your boat.
But these shells of people you meet along the way, like your fleeting memory, they are but warnings of what may be in store for you if you don’t shape up. But it’s no matter you tell yourself, out of sight, out of mind, you’ve got plenty of time.
Though you doubt it.
Can you really come back from this addiction?
Probably not. It runs in the family and look at them. Nurture nature whatever, you’re FUCKED.
someone must be downloading porn here or something cos the internet is broke-city! should i exclaim aloud that i suspect someone is downloading porn? yes no?
speaking of porn, fil says i can no longer rely on my one signature porno bitches freestyle rap and that i should write some new lyrics to yell out when i am drunk raging so i think that i will do that now.
i live in toronto and i ain’t no ho but when i see a dick you know i gotsta blow
it ain’t whack it ain’t wrong i just like to hit that funky schlong
last nite i vomitted. i am never drinking jager ever again EVER! I MEAN IT THIS TIME! FOR REAL! thinking about the taste is making my stomache churn. i remember getting jealous at some point because fil had a crush on some girl in a movie like ten years ago and i wanted to make a big deal of it but everyone pretty much talked me out of that would-be tirade. i did however get a few cunty remarks in there i’m sure.
tonite we are going back to the ‘burbs for some fondue (sp?) and i am having a wonderful time nattering about saying FUN-DUE!! MORE LIKE FUN-DON’T!
last nite’s leaf game was brilliant. fil’s mum got him a leaf hat that basically looks like a retard helmet and it is the ugliest effing hat in the world which also makes it the nicest effing hat in the world.
there is a weight room in our building but the sauna is out of order and the treadmill isn’t plugged in and a table is in the middle of the room on its side and it is a creepy looking room that makes me feel like i will be raped in it so i haven’t done any working out i also gave all of my lounge pants away so i’d have to be like that stupid kid in gym class who never brought his shorts so he was playing soccer in his winter boots and jeans. i hated that kid.
so everyone ended up making out with each other saturday nite on account of my drunklor split personality and then samir was all why won’t anyone make out with me!? and he couldn’t handle me and sharpie being trashy bulldykes at the horseshoe, but it’s not my fault, she said that i talk too much and then mouth-raped me after i shoved her up against the wall and slobbered all over her. and then after i told her and fil to kiss i immediately regretted it cos i got all jealous and on the way back in the taxi i was all DID YOU ENJOY IT TELL ME THE TRUTH!???
and everyone gave me the silent treatment and the next morning fil woke up still drunk and talked really loud and wouldn’t shut up meanwhile steve was going to jump off the balcony to go get some food cos he didn’t want to leave the door unlocked.
last nite i dreamt i ate 5 blue ecstasy pills then wandered around streetsville and went to a fancy food store and broke the coffee machine and spilled my soup everywhere but the E never kicked in and then i bumped into noel and he looked very skinny and old and then i went down to the park and yelled at noel where is my jacket and it was in my hand and then i couldn’t find my pizza and then me and fil were looking for art at sherway gardens and then i saw a guy in a tie that i recognized smoking a cigarette at the park where children were on swings and then we were driving i dunno that dream sucked.
