Saturday, November 10, 2007

One bourbon, one scotch and one beer

I didn't think I'd post anymore today because I'm fucking tired and the fucking Blue Jackets are losing, but I figured how often will I have the opportunity to post while stumbly drunk? For you see, my home connection is a prime example of suckitude, so sober posting is fucking hard enough. And you fuckes (that's the Middle English spelling, I think) should be appreciative, because I've fixed about 752 typos already and it's hard when you have the monster buzz going on dudes and dudesses. Ugh. I'm fucking sorry for that. Anyway, Candace was wondering the other day what the fuck happened to National Drunk Writing Day or whatever it's called and here it is, a week late. At least according to the fucking banner on her site. Which she could've easily photoshopped, and I'm beginning to fucking wonder!

Fuck, I swear a lot when buzzing. See, when the kids aren't around, one must take advantage and drink. Usually, I just dig a casual buzz for when I'm writing. There's that perfect place beteween sobriety and out-of-it-ness that's warm and seems to push the pen better. Well, normally. You should see what I just wrote. Ha! It's abysmal! Um, I think this is some $10 wine I picked up at Giant Eagle. It's a dry white, from France, OF COURSE. J'adore le vin français et j'adore tous mes amis. Okay, fuckers, I'm going to bed because my wife says I have to. That usually means lots of [redacted] and multiple instances of [redacted]. Oh. Yeah. Well, I'll probably just fall asleep.

Man, is this fucking post going to look fucking stupid and embarrassing tomorrow morning. But that's okay, we all do dumb shit and at least my shit didn't get anyone killed, I'm looking at you BUSH! YOU FUCKING WAR CRIMINAL! GOD I FUCKING HATE YOU FUCKING FUCKERS! I'm a happy drunk. Seriously, I'll even sing for you. But not now because I think I'm supposed to go and do some naughty things.

People, fuck Republicans, be groovy to each othre. Fuck I ain't fixing that typo! Good night!


Mary Ellen said...

What the fuck? :-O

Randal Graves said...

Too much spirit, mon amie!

Freida Bee said...

Don't tell me you weren't so drunk that you couldn't have gone streaking to your mailbox a little. That's okay, 'cause naughty sounds better anyway.

My husband thought me a little strange to get up out of bed, take my remaining clothes off at the door and go on my back porch for a few minutes, but he's used to it.

"I don't want to be a liar (about this,)" I said.

Actually, I had no naughtiness and had the outdoor nudity. It seems I need to re-evaluate my priorities here.

La Belette Rouge said...

I admire your courage to drink and blog. Are there laws about this?
Hope with the light of day you do not delete this post--Oscar Wilde wouldn't have. To quote another creative debaucher, Jim Morrison, "Why do I drink? So that I can write poetry." Sure it ended badly for Jim, but you don't worry---as you have to limit your bacchanalian festivities to when the kids aren't around. :)

Candace said...

Fucking awesome. Or something. Papa would be proud.

Randal Graves said...

Freida Bee, I unfortunately, and I'm oh so crushed about it, have a mail slot built into the house. Any nudity would be seen by no one but our cats.

And yes, though nakedness may be comfortable, if there's no naughtiness, unless it's a shower - which could be utilized in such a way as well - then what's the point?

LBR, delete? Certainly not, mon amie. Warts and all. Except egregious grammatical errors and typos in sober posts, right? :) And speaking of Mr. Morrison, if I'm going to die, Paris isn't a bad place, but I'd like to wait a few decades before I meet the Grim Reaper!

Candace, I'd raise a glass to him for certain, but it's 6h30 am. Tea will have to do!