Easter Drankin´

5 PM...

Easter Sunday...

About 3 beers in...

Tecate to be more specific. Yeah, I know Easter isn´t a traditional drinking day, what with it supposed to be honoring White Jesus Walkind Deading it up and all but, then again, folks get winter wasted on Christmas, which is supposed to be about Baby Jesus, so whatever. Excuse my blasphemous boozing and typing.

The point of me even bringing that up is to say that I´m drinking. Obviously. But it´s also to explain why this post is on this blog instead of one of my other blogs. (although, I really should mirror it on my Caged Therapy one too...) Let me rewind back a tad...

I´m apartment sitting and dogsitting for friends. Whenever I do this activity and it allows me freedom for a few days, I like to drink and write. Not drink to get bent/wasted/drunk, but to feel a tiny buzz. I feel it lubricates my writing tools. I´m like Hemingway in that way, or that´s the excuse I usually use. What REALLY happens is I end up killing the six pack over the course of two days, come up with ideas I jot down but don´t really finish anything.

I planned on this time being different.

I´ve been pissed at myself for not completing what I at least think are awesome story ideas. I say I´m a writer but I did way more writing when I was clueless as what to possibly label myself. I know what needs to be done. I even see myself wrapping up tales in my head; I just don´t do it.
So this time was going to be different.

I usually take most of my story ideas with me. This time I only took two with me and the book I would have to reference for one of them. I was gonna get it done.
That was Friday´s plan.

Cut to Sunday at 5 PM and I haven´t made any strides that are worth reporting about. I know pretty much 75% of how I want the main story I was supposed to bust out this weekend should go; I´ve just haven´t committed it to eternity. The ideas still exists only in my head and my fragmented chicken scratch. What happened?

I can blame this cute dog falling asleep in my lap but I won´t because that´s dumb. It´s harder to type but I´m still able to post with her in my lap right now so that´s a copout. I could blame being unfocused and tired and horny but only the last one is true. (SO TRUE) But, again, only excuses. Drinking beer maybe? Nope. Never stopped me before.

This is on me. My writing mojo is out of whack and has been for awhile. So I´m going back for what worked for me in the past- write a bit about the non-fiction of my current life and then move into my fantastical take on fiction when that gets me angry/sad/fired up enough. Hoping that works out. We´ll soon see in a few days won´t we.

BTW, there is no images on this post right now; I´m using someone else´s laptop and I´m not gonna monkey around with that stuff right now, especially since everything is en Espanol, even the keyboard to an extent. So, if you DO see images, it means I revisited this page at home, looked it over and said "Ehh. This is frakkin´true enough for me and the three folks who read this. It just needs a beer can or two to be perfect."

Happy St. Paddy's Day!

Checking my wallet and it looks like my liver is safe this year.
In the meantime, enjoy this snippet from last year with some pals.
SLAINTE!


Next year it's McDonald's Shamrock Shakes mixed with Smirnoff for me.

Sober Superbowl

Didn't drink this year. Game was not as exciting, commercials were not as good and life was not as sweet.
Wings DID rock as usual though.

Dirty 30th

“I don’t need a birthday cause I buy myself all the presents I need. And because of my drinking, they’re often a surprise.”

So, obviously, I'm back to drinking. Been back for awhile but nowhere as extreme as I used to be.

Except for the weekend of November 28th.



I turned 30 and figured I would drink a little more than usual. I planned on making it a small affair (vastly different from my 29th birthday Drink Debacle where I talked to people I didn't remember and gave a speech on the merits of soup). That plan kinda worked out.

What I didn't plan on was the friends I invited. They are my usual NYC drinking pals. Let's just call em Darth Fader (Lord of the Fifth), Shots, Drink King and Drink Twin.

About how many beers later and random tequila/patrons shots later, I was being dragged away from an unattractive girl in a club that I didn't remember, almost losing a 20 in the subway and passing out on my cousin's inflatable air mattress.

So, the usual. Good times.

If you want to see pics, hit me up or go to my Facebook page and look under my 30th BDay Night.

Enjoy.

It's coming...

Got posts ready in my head but have yet to put them down, including my friend's going away party and yesterday's shenanigans. Until then let these 2 snippet I took yesterday afternoon and about 2 weeks ago tide you over.
Slainte.





UPDATE- I apologize for the crappy quality of these vids. Got an actual camera so the quality should improve moderately. Still, I think the grainy work gives it some emotion.

No Lyin', Just Cougars, I'm Clear, Oh My....

Three day weekend. Well, really a two day weekend for me since I work on Saturdays. Either way, an extra day to pretend like you are going to catch up on things to be done but really an excuse to sit around and accomplish nothing or go out and party for an extra night. Most likely, with mass quantities of alcohol consumed.

I mean that's what Abe Lincoln and the rest of the crew were all about, right?

"IT'S A CELEBRATION, BITCHES!"

So, here I am, sober, with a three-day weekend. Not planning on leaving the house, my Valentine's is far away and I'm ashy. Plus, I have worked to be accomplished. I think the old white men who ruled this country would want me to get some stuff done and I'm pretty sure the black guy we got now would as well.

I missed my friend's party for her birthday on Friday (sorry, Red) and I was committed to getting things done. Had just came back from work on Saturday and was actually busting some good stuff out. During the night, as I was slowing down, my roommate asked if I wanted to go to the Yardhouse with him and a lady friend. Mind you, it's Valentine's Day and the last thing I wanted to be was a third wheel to a couple.....
But, free food. I was in.
His girl comes home and we go out.

This is the part of the story where I tell those unfamiliar with the place a little about Yardhouse. Nice place. Food is good if a lil pricey at times. Hot 20-30 year olds roam the place and the older ladies come down to drink a beer or three before they go upstairs to Blue Martini aka The Cougar Den.

ROWR!!!

Oh. Did I mention this place has the world's largest selection of draft beers?
Yeah. THE FUCKIN' WORLD.

Some of that WORLD beer.

I still went because a)free food and b)knew this would be a challenge I would need to face. I remember the last time I puked came when I went to this place to begin my night and Irish car-bombed myself into oblivion.

I had to face down this demon. This oh so delicious demon....

My roommate orders food and spends most of the time complaining how he is the only one drinking because I'm not and his friend is driving us. He is drinking some Sam Adams Cherry Wheat which just smells good and has a name that makes me think of dessert. I want a drink but stop myself and my roommate continues to drink as he repeats
"I'm Samuel Jackson and this is my beer! Mmmm-mmm, bitch!"
That helps the sobriety go down easier.

One of these guys looks like my roomie. Guess which one?


We go home, he gets emo and another Saturday is liquor free. Yay, me!

Sunday rolls around and I stay in the whole day as my roommate takes another girl and his friend to the 'House again and a few other spots. I'm sleeping when they arrive home but wake up quickly from the ruckus they are causing. Normally, on a Sunday night I would get up and say "Shut the FUCK UP!" but it is a three day weekend and everyone sounds like they are in a good mood so I let it ride. I turn over and pass out.

Monday rolls around and I'm up and everyone is in a good mood except the roommate but whatever. I'm trying to do some work (really just watching this over and over) when I start to hang with the roommate's friend, M. Santos.* I get along good with this kid and we can shoot the shit for awhile. He is waiting for my roommate to drop him off on the way to an interview. The girl is waiting for her older friend to pick her up.
A friend who has told her, after meeting me for maybe a total of seven minutes, "I want to bone him."

This friend is 40.

Yeah. This is familiar.

Now, don't get me wrong. There is NOTHING wrong with an experienced lady. I have "hung out" with a few in my time and enjoyed myself. And she wasn't bad looking.

But I wasn't going to do it.

There are numerous reasons for this (one more important than the others) but I'll share three with you.

1) She was coming to pick up her 19 year-old friend. Now, there is nothing inherently wrong with this. If said 19 year-old is very mature for her age, I can see it. This is not the case. On top of that, you are forty and still living at home? Ehhhh. I really shouldn't be one to judge but that isn't in my gameplan.

2) She said "I want to bone him." That's what she said. Verbatim. Not as a joke either. For some reason, that is very rarely a turn-on phrase for me. Only works if you say it in a joking manner-not seriously as you eye-rape me.

3) I was stone-cold sober. Okay, that shouldn't be a factor but I have realized that being tipsy has impaired my judgment greatly in the past. I have done asinine things before because of booze or as a result of using booze as an excuse to act like an ass. I knew if I went forward with this a)I would causing myself a big headache in the longer run and b)I wouldn't have the flimsy excuse of liquor to fall back on.

My liver thanked me, my penis hated me and my brain and heart said "Good Job."
My male friends (mostly) looked at me incredulously and my female friends (mostly) said I made a good move and that's when I had that epiphany on Twitter-

Men understand when you do something and women get when you don't do something.



So, I guess I'm learning a little something by not drinking. And, as Martha Stewart says, "That's a good thing."

Then, again, maybe I shouldn't quote that woman.


*Fake name, of course.

V.D. Is Becoming A Pandemic- UPDATE

(this is another one that could potentially go in my other blog but as it concerns drinking and is more lighthearted I’ll put it here)

Didn’t go to the Las Vegas Twestival this Thursday (but it was for a good cause) and I’m debating going out for my co-worker’s birthday. I would but these are the problems with being sans vehicle, broke and not really wanting to hang out with roommate and one of his girls on Valentine’s Day Eve.

Which brings us to the topic at hand- Valentine’s Day.

Yay....

Valentine’s Day (for those of you who missed the Hallmark inspired class about it in 2nd grade) is the traditional day on which lovers express their love for each other by sending overpriced cards (here, to help you poor, cheap, funny, procrastinating chumps) , spending money on flowers that don’t last or offering treats to fatten up your loved ones so they have no one else to go to. Maybe I’m just cynical. Who knows? It is really supposed to be a day of being with your loved one/ones and is full of joy and happiness.

It sucks. Actually, it has the dubious distinction of both sucking and blowing.

Now, it doesn’t necessarily have to suck. If you are in a relationship/ dating/ hooking up with a regular bus station skank, then this day can be awesome for you. It is full of long glances, hand holding and taking a fun-filled trip to the free clinic to pick up your meds to treat the special case of “love” you received from the aforementioned bus skank. Truly a beautiful day.

If you are single, it’s another tale entirely.

Usually you spend the day either commiserating with fellow losers…ehhh, I mean, loners who are also by themselves on this day. This can be fun if said loners are your pals and you are funny and/or confident enough to deal with the cheesy lovey-dovey things you are going to encounter.

Unfortunately, 7 times out of 10, your friends have the maturity and ability to actually convince and/or trick some poor soul into being with them. If this is the case, then you are going to have the bittersweet pleasure of either not hearing from that pal for the whole day or you will be witness to what you can’t get because of some deficiency in your stunted social skills. The worst, of course, is when your friend sucks worse than you and somehow manages to snag someone. Either way, sucks for you, buddy.

Ouch.

What does this have to do with drinking?

Simple really. Valentine’s Day is the day when the most alcohol is consumed. [citation needed] It’s a stone cold fact.

Think about it. Couples are sipping crates of champagne and other assorted boozes. Lonely people are having their“We Are Alone and (Angrily) Happy About That” parties with PLENTY of liks. Then you have the bar goers either drinking to forget their pain and find a hook-up or looking for people drinking their pain away to hook-up with them.

I, as you should all know by now, will be sober. Roommates are hanging out with their ladies. Not trying to hook-up and won’t drink.

So,if you are in a happy relationship, have a good time….lucky bastards. If you are single, drunkenly hook up with someone in my name. Just don’t find me if the person you thought you went home with isn’t the person you wake up with.

Oh, it happens.

Besides, you don't have to go back to work until Tuesday so just do as Ludacris does and keep it moving.
Fun times abound on a three-day weekend.

UPDATE- was told that maybe I was a tad negative and bitter in this one.
Well...Yeah. I was. Sue me.
Was tired after work and didn't exactly look forward to being alone on V-Day when I was missing someone.
Anyway, here's something more upbeat if you want. Enjoy yo'self!