Us drinkers often think that our ideas when we’re drunk are the best ever thought. Is it because we’re wasted that we think our ideas are better or are we actually more creative when we’re intoxicated? Read more »
On this Day of Passion: A Tale of Sodomy
Having juggernaut-smashed through the persistent indignities of Valentine’s Day with the assistance of Pabst Blue Ribbon, I am now prepared to resume my regular activities of day time talk shows and showing an inappropriate amount of enthusiasm toward professional wrestling. The intrusiveness of Valentine’s Day, to me, from the people consistently prying about why I don’t have a “Valentine,” falls somewhere between a prostate exam and a prostate exam from a snowman, complete with its splintery, ice-embosomed stick hands. Not to be the “Grinch” of such a red and pink-clad nightmare of a holiday, I feel as though my dislike is rational, becoming enraged somewhere between the couples who hold hands only with their pinkies and the tiny, stale, marshmallow candy hearts with snippets of generic love notes sloppily printed across their broader surface; they’re less of a Valentine’s Day tradition and more of a candy-corn for people in love, really. I think my problem with the day marinates less in its more commercial aspects, and more in my own ridiculous expectations from my personal relationships.
I would like to believe that I am a realist when it comes to sex and romance, but that would be to say that I am a champion of not chain-smoking. The issue I deal with is in my lack of communicative skills with those around me, revealing a majority of my woes to girls who live more than an hour away from me and my favorite bartender/therapist. The problem with the first being the all too evident lack of physical affection from a long distance phone friend, and with the latter, being that my mother/creator of romantic identity issues believes I drink at the bar too much. I could, of course, try to plead my case about the bar to my other parent, but my father/”I was in Vietnam, damn it, and don’t need to be bitched at about your drinking” is obligated to agree with my mother, but I digress.
Most people I know would care to argue that my love life is fairly non-existent, making such a case that, “Sex without love just isn’t the same.” I would like to point out that, that these people are lonely and take most of their lives’ advice from horoscopes, which to me are fortune cookies for crazy people. Read more »
A Brief Inventory of My Dignities
This has changed so much since I started writing it, plain and simple. This, as in this, this essay you are currently digesting. I was writing about childhood and love and the most important parts of our lives, almost like a love story. High school graduations, losing our virginities- but in the broad light of day it doesn’t seem a lot different than anyone we’ve fornicated since or any other certificate we’ve received for hard work. I’d submit to say at this point familiarity would trump any sort of nostalgia, because nothing feels quite so familiar since my Christmas break.
Because I began morning classes after break, habits have changed drastically. I started referring to this week as “detox week,” as I didn’t see much of that over break. What with the few people who were left around York, professional wrestling on 3 nights a week with 2 overlapping football, another day of football pre playoffs, Saturday night, 50 cent Natural Light Draft Wednesdays at the local college bar, and Tuesdays being as exciting as oatmeal on valium you can assume where most of our free time went. Not being drunk isn’t a problem Read more »
Way way way back in the year 1999 came a band who had the guts to tell the world that they, them selves, were they’re own worst enemy. Like any good rock fairy tale they soared to the top only to later let their talent get sucked in by their ever swelling heads. Circa 2007 a show promoter and friend of gp was putting together a show with Lit and this was their dressing room hospitality list:
1. 3 cases (72 plastic bottles) purified drinking water—(please no DASANI. Room temp.))
2. Coffee, half/half, individual packets of “equal” AND sugar
3. Hot water w/ caffeine free tea bags,2 lemons, AND honey
4. 1 sandwich set-up please use re sealable packages ALL KEPT ON ICE
-1 loaf wheat bread
– 2 lbs. fresh, lean turkey
– 1 lbs. fresh, pastrami
– sml jar mayo
– sml jar yellow mustard
– 1 box BOCA burgers
– Hamburger buns
– fresh cut vegetables and dip (1 fat free sour cream, and 1packet Hidden Valley Ranch original flavored dip mix) ….we will mix…
5. A bowl of fresh fruit …bananas, Apples
6. 12 DIET Cokes -12 regular Cokes -12 DIET root beer – 12 DIET 7-UP
The Advantages of Being Dumped Over the Phone at 2 am
Writing this on Christmas Eve feels peculiar, almost unsettling. Not unsettling in a frightening sense, but more of a peculiar worry, as if the news put out a warning concerning a toddler out for revenge- there’s nothing to worry about but I won’t sleep quite as soundly understanding the implications of such a thing.
A Pabst Blue Ribbon and Criminal Minds tonight, followed by a morning of gift giving and Kenny G. Christmas music while my father takes enough pictures to consume the hard drive of a NASA computer which lies ahead. And in my life’s rear view mirror, a perky nineteen year old blonde with big tits who would only be the little spoon- and to be honest, I didn’t know that much more about her. I think that’s why I get the impression I shouldn’t feel so bad about the split we just went through, but she was my nineteen year old blonde with big boobs so I’m going to be salty and despondent about it.
I’ve had roughly a week of recovery time, but I filled most of it with deathmatch wrestling videos on Youtube and Southern Comfort. I don’t feel that’s proper etiquite for mourning a breakup, if that’s what you’d like to call it, but that’s not the only reason I feel I should have recovered. You see friends, I have a parylizing fear of commitment. I don’t even like ordering breakfast at restaurants. Usually, I order orange juice before I realize the orange juice costs two dollars and twenty-five cents compared to the one dollar and fifteen cent coffee. After that I usually black out into a panic attack, but I’ve been told I mostly shake uncontrollably and grumble about communism; but that’s neither here nor there, so I digress. Read more »
The FDA has issued a proposed rule to require large disturbing pictures on the top 50% of all cigarette boxes. When I first herd them try to do anything like this it was to put a huge skull and crossbones label over the majority of the pack, which would have been pretty rad, but this is just stupid. I mean they’re not even well designed. It’s like they got a bunch of stupid stock imagery and slapped a warning on it. Then again maybe they didn’t want it to look good. Either way it’s going to make me want to smoke more because now I have to collect the whole set. I’m going to have to keep switching my brand to who ever has the new label. Other then being a nightmare for cigarette box designers, there is just bigger general health issues then smoking they should be putting time into. If I choose to kill myself slowly with a cigarette thats my god given right because this is america, next they’re ganna take our guns and our jarbs. This rule is up for public review, to submit one go to www.regulations.gov and insert docket number FDA-2010-N-0568 into the “search” box and follow the prompts. Below are the proposed labels, I gave them better captions.
A Between You & Me story
I’ve got to have the worst luck in the history of all 21 year olds ever on the good soil of Pennsylvania. I was driving along the highway minding my own business
when wouldn’t you know it, a damn cop pulls me over. Now you would think because he is the law he would have a legit reason for doing so, but no….his reason goes as follows…..
Cop: Sir Do you know why I have pulled you over?
Me: Ummmm no I don’t sir
Cop: Sir your 3rd brake light is out, did you know this?
At this point, let me tell you, I was a little flabbergasted at this accusation that I would drive around with no brake lights, as I take full care of my cars lighting situation and would never let my baby boy issac ever ride around with a light out. So I knew what he was saying was not the correct reason for him taking the time out of his night for a light.
Me: Well Officer I had no idea i even had more than 2 brake lights!
Where at this point he starts sniffing his nose as if he smells something in my car and asks me
Cop: Have you been Drinking tonight sir? I smell booze in your car!
At this time I’m still a little confused and i say..
Me: No sir I have not been drinking alcohol this evening, the smell you may be noticing is the smell of the sex I just had in the fine automobile.
He did not find my joke funny Read more »
