Dinner and a Movie.

A few nights ago, I got really, really, really drunk. Even for me. I spent most of Tuesday vomiting, and I do mean the whole day.

The first volley throws out that burger, the second the hot wings. Then comes the water. Then the mystery liquid mixed with stomach acid.

After that there is a reprieve, a sort of drunken sweat coma that is violently inturupted 3 hours or so later by the beginning of the end. This is, of course, signaled by the final emptying of your stomach, anything left, stomach acid, bile, your stomach lining, that piece of gum you swallowed in 5th grade to avoid getting in trouble.

Your throat, raw and sore, the taste of pure evil in your mouth, that is when your stomach defies all science. Muscles you didn't even know you had begin to convulse, tightening and squeezing trying desperately to expunge every molecule of irritant from your soul. You desperately try to drink something, anything so that you can actually puke, something. But all you end up doing is choking on the liquid because you can't stop heaving long enough to swallow properly.

Soon this routine slows to a walk. You get a ten to fifteen minute probation from your sentance, just long enough to reflect on your sins and the inevitable penance that will ensue shortly. You think, maybe that was the last one, maybe it's done, but no...you are not done, not by a long shot.

This physical abolition is not all negative, though it is most certainly all bad. You start to ask, "What in the Hell did I do to bring my life to this, sweating over a toilet wishing I was dead, was it those squirrels I shot with a BB gun when I was 12, or maybe, it was all the times I was an asshole to total stragers or maybe I'm being punished for all the times I never cared about anyone but myself.?."

But the asnswer is glaringly simple, the only real cause is...Drinking to excess, duh? That is the superficial answer that your stomach is pounding into your brain with the subtle momentum of a ICBM. It is at this point that you start to need to shit too, all the contortioning has been working both ends, so now you have to hope that you have a convinient bathroom set up that will allow you to shit and puke at the same time, with minimal mess, but I digress.

Drinking is the obvious cause, but why did I drink so much? I drink a lot, and usually this does not happen, why this time? What does this event have in common with the few other times this has happened. And the answers come pouring in, without the filter of ego, or the ability to repress, your body has been strained to the limits of endurance, and just maintaining your life is taking all you have, so with all of your defenses down...a salience enters your pain addled conciousness...and there it is.

Suddenly and petrifying, the honest truth about your self, all your mistakes, all your regrets, all the thing that you need to remit, the behaviors you must abate, the fears that keep you abashed, the darkest most esoteric parts of you are laid bare...

...and then you vomit again, your stomach has managed to make about a teaspoon of stomach acid, that burns your throat, but that's a bout it, all your relvelations are erased by the lesson your body wants you to learn, a lesson you earnestly and genuinely embrace...No MOre Alcohol, never agian! And when you finally believe it, when your blood carries with it this truth, then your body lets you chug a gallon of water, and vomit it up, and then finally lets you sleep.

end transmission.

Beneath the Ashes and Lies.

Ian and I got drunk on car bombs and vodka. I'm not lying to you guys, it really happened. Ok well maybe drunk is the wrong word, oblitertated may be more accurate. A celebration of my acqusition of a new job and the fact that life is so super. We left the bar at some point and a black dude came out of the parking lot and said, "Yo, can you guys do a nigga a favor?" Ian politely said, "No, man, sorry." The black dude responded, "It'll just take a second," at this point we have walked about 100 ft away from the guy, we continue to walk away and Ian says, "Sorry, no." "Well then fuck you fuckers, " the black dude yells. I stop and turn around, "What the fuck did you just say?" I said. "I said, fuck you," he said. "That's what I thought you said," I replied and we walked away and went and had mexican food somewhere. So to the topic of the week... So goat fisting or "handballing" as I have come to call it is a apparantly growing in popularity among the kids. Apparantly, young teenagers, curious about sex with goats, are more likely to anally (brachioprocticly) molest a goat, then they are to vaginally (brachiovaginally), and also tend toward fisting over other forms of sex, such as goat sucking or goat fucking. But what are the dangers of this behavior, you ask? Dr. Adam Germins, the world's foremost expert in animal fisting, had this to say, "Fisting is generally considered low risk for the spread of STD's provided a few basic precautions are followed; but, as with any sexual activity, there are potential health risks that must be taken into careful consideration before engaging in the fisting. When fisting is done with proper care, the risk of injury is quite low; however, fisting, when done improperly, can result in serious injuries, including ruptured bowels, internal tears, rectal/colonic infections, urinary tract infections, pelvic immflamatory disease, bruising of the cervix, mucosal laceration, muscle tearing, and temporary fecal incontinence, sterility, in the extreme case, even death. It also has been known to make the animals cry a little." Be safe, kids. end transmission.

Sure Thing Failing.

I know what you're all thinking...9/11 passed without any comment. One might ask; Don't you have something horribly inappropriate or insensitive to say about terrorists and/or people jumping out of 50 story windows to avoid immolation by flaming jet fuel? There has to be some complicated theory about how this attack was actually executed in concert with the American Government, or some sort of rant about dead muslims and the idiocity of religion. Surely, you have some rage about people profiting from this bullshit, and people with WTC tattoos, and the culture of fear America has incubated to the point of blatant insanity, and the Government's deft weilding of this trepidation to fuck us in the ass while we sit with a stupid grin on our faces asking for more, and thinking all the while that it is what we need.

That would be a valid inquery, and I would have to answer, that I just didn't feel like it, okay?

So in order to give me more shit to write about I have decided to have a weekly topic, inturupted sporadically by interesting "real life" events as they occur. Got anything you want me to talk about...I love hearing myself type.

This week's topic: Fisting Goats.

My first inclination was to be against the fisting of goats, both anally and vaginally. Then, I thought vaginal Goat fisting would be ok, if the goat was of legal age, and the animal was a willing participant. But then what about the goats of the male gender, are they to be left out of the five knuckle bliss? We can't just allow anal Goat fisting for male goats, and not allow it in the females, so all fisting or none.

More to follow.

end transmsiion.

Go to Work Drunk.

I woke up today and my toe hurt. The second toe, second from the big one, and I investigated the pain. It turned out I had the beginnings of an ingrown toenail, I got my pocket knife and dug it out, instantly alieviating the discomfort and I was relieved. That got me thinking about the time I broke up a girl who I really liked.

Anyway, much like clawing out the ingrown nail, I sought to eliminate the pain. Luckily, I chose booze, coke and one night stands as my expurgation and not a knife. Though unlike the toenail, my methods ended in less than total triumph.

So in this painful delirium of inebriation and woe, I fucked a girl, I will call her Hot Coke Slut 16 or HCSXVI. She had the most amazing tits I've ever seen in real life, and she either looked really similar to my old girlfriend, or I just hallucinated the similarities.

It was some of the best sex I've ever had, so full of rancor and acrimony, just so fucking...vengeful, I guess. HCSXVI told me it was incredible as well, but I really could have given two shits what she thought. Hot coke sex with strangers always seemes really good at the time anyway, no matter the reality, so who knows. She was probably the third girl I had fucked since the breakup, and I was starting to feel like my approach to dealing with the situation might have some tatical errors. For one it wasn't really working for longer than a few hours, and for another, I was starting to actually feel worse.

Her cell phone rang about 20 minutes after we had finished, and I found myself laying in bed next to HCSXVI while she talked on her phone to someone. I just sat there thinking, my thoughts moving so quickly I could barely tell them apart, what was She doing tonight, did I have to work today?, where was my car? I'm kinda hungry, well not really, but I should be hungry, did HCSXVI really let me do that to her just now, it smells like sex in here, when did I stop wanting to be an astronaut, oh yeah when they said I was too tall to fit in the damn shuttle, fuck I forgot to feed my dog, i need some whiskey, I've got to fuck this girl one more time before I never talk to her again, when did I become such an asshole? but they soon melded into one terrible cohesive ideation.

I had never even thought to wear a condom. I came on her tits, though so pregnancy was not a fear, but I could practically feel the warts growing on my dick, balls and asshole, anywhere this fucking dirty slut's infected juices had come into contact with me. Or worse, I could have AIDS or Chlamydia, or gonorrhea, hepatitis B, or even C, Herpes, Molluscum, Syphilis...maybe even fucking Bacterial Vaginosis! Well, nothing to do about it now. I was either infected or not. Could I even get Bacterial Vaginosis?

HCSXVI asked if I had any more drugs, I lied and told her no. I got up out of bed and went into the bathroom to pee.

In other news....

I had a blast last night hanging out with some new people, My Myspace Non-homosexual internet Boyfriend introduced me to (real names withheld to protect the guilty, though to be honest I am so bad with names it will probably take me years to remember their real monikers) White Thunder, Slappy the Jew, Too-tall Asian Sushi Cook, The Russian, Yellow the Drunk, and a few others who I couldn't come up with interesting alias's for. It's good to find people that like to drink as much as I do, or are good at faking it.

Oh yeah, this all started because my Marketing director said my Blog did not have enough sex in it and I was losing readers in the 8-14 year old girl demographic.

end transmisson.

Public Witness Program.

Hmmm...what to say here. I just bought a new keyboard, and it is a little odd, so fuck the typos...


I just met a bi-polar asian girl who loves horror movies, kung fu movies, and girls who act like girls.

Suffice it to say I am in love with her. She is hot to boot, and works at an insane asylum....and well, crazy, asian, hates girls, loves gore, fascinated be weird shit...it fits the bill, but she's even crazier than I think even I can handle...why does tha tmake it so much sexier.....I mean she has had some random "black outs" she calls them....psychotic episodes my limited psych education calls them....uh...well....

on a more stable note, I had a good interview with Mandalay bay today....lots of $$, hopefully enough that I can start fucking prostitutes and stop trying to find women I actually like.

end transmission.