My term papers are always kind of strange. They start off nice and formal and proper and all, and two pages in it looks like something out of a Bukowski novel. What's more strange is that I've never been called on it, 3 years into an English lit degree. Guess the professors enjoy a few "Fuck"s to spice things up.
Aha, went out with a buddy who is leaving for somewhere in Ontario in order to make money from Research in Motion (Blackberry people). Gave him a hard time about getting a RIM job. Then went too a local bar, where a few friends are drinking. Bartender comes over and the only girl mentions I am an exhibitionist. I get up, unzip my pants and start humping the girls arm and give the bartender the you're next motion. Turns out bartender is arm-humped-girls sister. We left shortly afterward and now I'm here drinking again with you people and repping you with undeserved love.
I'm home already, watching TMZ. What a night... I should have mentioned my town is 3500 people and shuts down at midnight. I'm sure there's a Footloose joke or something even better somewhere in there. I did see an old friend at the bar, actually like twenty but only one counts. That should probably be a rave but it is for sure a giving of thanks. And I was just denying the existence of a higher power that intervened in our lives earlier today... I guess I'll wait and see how the holiday goes to decide that one.
God I hate my family. They've gone and moved Thanksgiving dinner to friday (that's a bitch move, gramma), and didn't feel the need to tell me this until I was up here. So I have jack-shit to do tomorrow, and my weekend plans are now shit. Fuckers.
How dare you sir. We deserve all the love. I'm all warm and relaxed now after my bubble bath. I'm also not as drunk as I was when I went in. my bathtub is cast iron and takes about 5 minutes to get adjusted from freezing ass cold to bath water temperature, it's quite a sobering effect
aaaannnnndddd DONE. Eight minutes later than I was shooting for, but I'll chalk that up to the recent additions to the boobie thread, which were wonderful. Off to drink and what not. Have a nice Thanksgiving ya'll.
If I orgasmed everytime I drank, everyone would get love, deserved or not. I tried sobering up a bit before bed but my roommates decided to join in. I would say fuck my life but fuck everyone else's life for not having awesome roommates like mine.
Ok, being the nice guy I am, and the fact I made sure to clean my sheets before the weekend, I let my buddy throw down some pipe, in my bed. I'm normally not the type to do this, but this is pretty much my best friend, we watched Star Trek on Blu Ray, and we drank 36 beers. I'm seriously hearing some weird fuck noises. Oh well. More power to him. He'll clean my sht and we already got in arguments. You should hear the random pole tings coming from my bed. This is clutch.
I have exactly one hour and 25 minutes to get a decent buzz going before I'm forced to deal with my Bible beating aunt, her redneck husband and her two mouth-breathing children.
My gravy recipe, throw shit in a pot. Add some white wine. Walk away and drink from a bottle of chardonnay at 8.40am. Let simmer.
Awesomely enough my girlfriend and I possibly broke up last night. So now I have no plans after the early family dinner. In a fit of feeling sorry for myself I broke out the vodka at 9:30 am. I'm thinking this could turn out great as I plan to go to some bars later and pick up on someone just like myself (with girly parts of course). Or I might just be passed out at 3. whatever. P.S. Wrap it up kids.
Last night I spent several hours making various Fall accoutrements (pumpkins, leaves, acorns) out of Marzipan. There's not usually any drinking at family functions (all teetotalers or alcoholics) but I may start a new tradition.
Since very early this morning I've been drinking heavily and running back and forth between the barn, the sawmill, the pump house, and the garage. No, this is not some sort of odd Southern tradition. It's because that wretched woman my father married is bound and determined to steal my land and I may lose all the storage for my tools and I need to do something with them. So I've been running around gathering them together and sorting them trying to figure out just what I do and don't need. (Does anyone really need to have 4 full sets of 3/4" drive sockets, 3 chop saws, 4 chain saws, 2 20 gallon reserve air compressors, 2 welding rigs (I don't weld, but they were a good buy) and God only knows how many circular saws, sabre saws, at least 20 full sets of combination wrenches and two ceramic tile power saws? This list is just the tip of the iceberg.) I'm about to have a tool sale that will rival a Harbor Freight warehouse sale, except my shit isn't all made in China. To make sure my day is complete the evil harpy left a message on my phone informing me "We're up at our vacation house. We all went skiing yesterday and I'm so happy to have all the family around me." The vacation house belongs to my step sister and was appraised at over $3M, but it's now "Our vacation house?" If your guessing it's in a high priced place like Aspen, you would be correct. This is a woman that is claiming financial hardship and attempting to steal family land from me. And by having "The whole family around" she means her daughter and her kids. My real sister and I don't count as family, but she sure as hell can spend my father's (And my) money. I'd like to use all my excess tools on her self entitled, never worked a day in her life, money grubbing, bitching and complaining ass. On the plus side, at least 5 people have stopped by and invited me to dinner today.
I woke up with a hangover that rivals being fed slowly into a mulching machine. So I did the sensible thing, and opened a beer. I watched my beloved Creighton Bluejays fall to Michigan in overtime (basketball), and although it's disappointing that they lost, at least we took the 15 ranked team into overtime. So I'm not too upset about it. Plus I'm drinking 312, and no one can be upset while drinking 312.
Had a nice Thanksgiving lunch at my girlfriends house. Had a few drinks before hand to make it tolerable. We left after I started to get tired and were heading back to our apartment before heading out to my families for the evening. Plans for the day were all going nice and well according to plan until my girlfriend got massively sick to her stomach on the way back to our apartment, gave me a look of horror, and told me she'd just shit her pants. It was everything I had not to laugh watching her try to make her way back inside, and up to our fifth floor apartment. I think our nights pretty well done at this point.
Why does that remind me of a skinned frog vomiting flies and whatever the hell else a frog eats or one of the random skanks I picked up in a bar when I was young? They seemed to throw up a lot too. And they were covered with green flakes, that could've been my doing though. After 20 odd beers your aim gets pretty bad and trying to get that shit in the bowl is quite difficult. Suddenly I'm curiously aroused.
My mom just came downstairs to see what I was doing, and looked around and asked "are you going to vacuum down here?" I said "I will if you want me to." She then hesitated and made the face that one makes when they just discovered something amazing, and retorted with "Then you can do the stairs and the living room while you're at it!" Damnit. I'm just trying to sit here, drink beer, and watch football. I'm not supposed to be vacuuming on thanksgiving.