2002-08-28 - 2:29 p.m.
I�m not on top of my game today. I went to a bar with my good friend Hector. 12 pints of Guinness and a pack of Marlboros later the realization that I should probably slow down kind of sunk in. It�s not like I�m 16 anymore. I�m old. And can�t call in sick the next day. But my Amigo Diablo convinced me to have a cigar to cap our evening. And of course I needed a double Crown to go with it. I�m not a barbarian. Even while intoxicated. Boorish, probably.
I hate being drunk. It makes me passionate and intense. Which is why I think I like to smoke so much. My important comments seem much more profound when punctuated by a glowing death stick. Plus it gives me something to do when I�m ignoring the other persons comments and point of view, nodding my head or lighting a new one while I outline my speech in my head. It�s a sad thing. Especially discussing such diverse topics as Lipstick Lesbianism, Marin County�s higher than average rate of breast cancer, and Trading Spaces. The three are all oddly related in a way that only a punch drunk bastard with a smoking fetish can make sense of. Link the chain like 6 degrees of Kevin Bacon. The strangest part of the evening was my pool game. When I tried to play, I sucked. But when I was making a shot quickly, I had mad skillz. I am not a very good pool player. Yet last night I could sink my shots skillfully at the oddest times. Like there is a pool playing zone that I could, at rare moments tap into and use. A primal instinct and skill that surfaced when I put all thoughts of pool out of my mind, and instead concentrated on why Laurie put French Country in a room when the girl totally wanted Caribbean Kitsch. Although that was funny because the team didn�t do their homework. Because they were lazy and then tried to get out of it by playing stupid. So my Amigo Diablo made sure I got home all right, and enjoyed himself immensely as I tried to make coffee in a highly drunken state. GD Percolator. And GD Grinder. And GD Starbucks for not being open at 11:30 at night when I want a cup of coffee. I�m all about blame sometimes. I ended up giving him a Mocha Frappacino I had in the fridge and kicking his ass out. I managed to drink some water and then passed out in my clothes on the couch.
Good Times.
Zen and don't cry out loud - 2007-07-29
Zen and the stumbling rocks of fitness - 2007-07-19
- - 2007-07-11
Zen and fasting - 2007-06-20
Zen and hiccups - 2007-06-18
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