2024-08-09

homepage.content

@@ -1050,6 +1050,98 @@ pre { /* DRY who? */
 }
 
 
+/blah/2024-08-09.html
+
+Last night I got pretty drunk and then smoked a joint and got very high,
+bringing me to the otherworldly state of crossfadia. Let me describe the scene.
+
+[...] pours a double shot of tequila and some margarita mix into a salt rimmed
+coffee mug. Why a coffee mug? There were only four cocktail glasses. Why
+cocktail glasses? There were no margherita - wait, how do you spell that?
+Fuckin hell I'm looking it up. Mike Alpha Romeo Golf Alpha Romeo India Tango
+Alpha. M A R G A R I T A. Got it. There were no margarita glasses. The cocktail
+glasses were pretty easy to rim with salt - salt, a little water, a pyrex
+because the plates are in the dishwasher, then roll inwards. The coffee mug -
+my coffee mug, by the way, the black one that has a weird handle - did not
+behave so well. Eventually there was enough salt on it to haunt a sailor and so
+a double shot of tequila and some margarita mix went in. Are you sure you don't
+want to add a little more tequila?
+
+[...]: I already pour heavy-handidly, Trin.
+
+That's true. I tried the margarita and I thought it was pretty good, I liked
+how the salt complemented the bitterness of the alcohol. Everybody else slowly
+tried theirs and remarked upon how awful their drinks were. But they can't
+handle their alcohol anyway.
+
+[...]: Hey, do you wanna try tequila shots?
+
+For lack of limes: I balled my left fist and, with the ring of my index finger
+and thumb parallel to the floor, [...] put about three or four drops of lime
+juice (from a bottle) on the flat part of my fist at that angle, told me to rub
+it on the skin, not to rub it /in/ or anything but just to spread it around to
+give it more surface area. Alright. It added salt. [...] poured heavy-handidly
+again; a single for my friend, a double for me. Alright. We - what order was it
+in again? - I think we licked the lime-and-salt, then took the shots.
+
+[...]: You took that shot like a champ. Unfazed.
+
+It's easy to seem good at drinking when you had so much bitter coffee as a kid
+- real battery acid sort of coffee. "Good" at drinking, says the almost-
+alcoholic. Not really. I've never found it difficult to function for my desire
+for Russian Fire-Water (in this case, though, I believe it was Spanish) but I
+sure act like an alcoholic according to some of my friends. Perhaps I'm just
+silly.
+
+No, no, I'm not even drunk yet - and I wasn't. But I would be. The shots hadn't
+hit quite yet. Still, I had two more. Then all six hit me like a Japanese train
+hits yet another suicidal pedestrian. Honk honk!
+
+I fell to the ground. Under my control, of course. I simply wanted to feel the
+gravity. It felt great.
+
+[...]: You're drunk.
+
+No, I said, getting to my feet and perching a magnificent flamingo pose, I am
+quite agile, like a shit software development cycle. I'm zen.
+
+[...]: Uh huh.
+
+Then we went out and [...] and I smoked two joints, one each, and during that I
+realized I became crossfaded and got really horny and started hitting on faer
+and fae put a cigarette out on me which we both knew I would really like, and
+now the burn is a cute blister on my arm.
+
+Then we went in and I don't quite remember the rest except that I probably
+didn't have sex (speaking for myself; it would have been fine if I did, but I'm
+glad I didn't because it would have probably not been that great) because I
+woke up in the living room on the futon at about god-knows-when in the morning
+with a trickle of dawn light eeking through the blinds and Pop Tart wrappers on
+the living room table - two of them. No, three. Plus an empty bottle of Moxie
+for which [...] was gonna suck me off.
+
+A fox was drinking out of the tap, so I let it, and it left and I filled my
+coffee mug with water and drank it and it tasted like the margarita mix still.
+
+: the last burger work poetry for now
+
+you could say I'm from somewhere or so
+halfway between anywhere and none at all
+blissfully ignorant of mortal concerns
+head made of metal with nothing left to learn
+
+2024-08-06
+
+it's been some time since I've loved
+been such a long time with no one
+waiting a long time in this brush
+I'm surviving on an island
+lovin' ain't findin' me
+hopin' ain't findin' me
+searchin' ain't gettin' me
+out of my misery
+
+
 /blah/2024-08-08.html
 
 It's the wee hour of the morning, nearly 0333 in my time zone. I'm hunched over
@@ -1384,6 +1476,79 @@ my blah posts of the last ten months.
 
 It's 0600 now.
 
+And now 2100, a sleep, a day, and two four six shots since. I'm adding a note
+here: One Step Beyond, by Madness, rocks.
+
+I am considerably drunk so now is a good time to write. About what, though, I
+don't know. I just hit my Escape key probably fifty times trying to Escape from
+INSERT mode only to realize I was in NORMAL mode after the first hit. God, I
+love vi(1).
+
+[...]: you should write about Moxie. You should write about drinking Moxie
+       after an amazing run of drunk sex. Have you ever had drunk sex?
+
+I've not quite had drunk sex, except one time after playing strip poker, though
+we were both somewhat sober by the end of it.
+
+[...]: You and [...]?
+
+Yeah.
+
+[...]: You should write about on-line friends. The experience of having on-line
+       friends.
+
+Alright, I'll write about on-line friends. What is there to write about? I'm
+living with most of them. On-line friends... now off-line friends. Meatspace.
+Of all my on-line friends I've fucked a couple, some way or another. I feel
+like Bukowski. I love sex, though. It's fun. It's a connection. Maybe I should
+write about sex.
+
+So how do I feel about sex? I've had sex a lot more times than I've cum during
+sex. Sex hurts in a good way, the biting. Sex is a jumbled frenzy, a soft free-
+for-all, a terrible blue whale in the ocean to admire from afar and hunt
+forever. Sex is a smooth churning waterfall, a soft boiled egg. Sex is a
+poached egg. It feels so good, so so good, amazing, fatty and protein and sweet
+and amazing and then it ends and it was just an egg. How the hell did an egg
+feel so good? Because it was sex, dumbass.
+
+[...]: xenofem.me users cannot convince anyone that they've actually had sex.
+
+That's true.
+
+I stare at everyone's asses. My enemies, my friends, my lovers, my
+acquaintances. Just looking! I like looking at asses. I've never had
+penetrative sex, no matter me or someone else doing the penetrating. Surely
+someone is pentrating somewhere. What am I talking about? I am drunk.
+
+flags decorate the walls
+some of which i am
+some of which i am not
+the calendar decorates the wall
+i'm on it
+my work is on it
+i'm married to my work
+my bitch wife
+i beat her
+i come into her,
+i treat her like shit,
+i smoke, i drink,
+i fuck her,
+i eat too much ice cream
+i fucking hated my job
+i left her
+she's gone
+i think about her
+how my fingers worked
+slowly dissecting her
+my work carving into her,
+chopping her up
+i get paid
+prostitution
+what does it matter
+we all have to eat
+
+[...]: Holy bingle. 
+
 
 /blah/2024-07-31.html