Before I start, if any of y'all motherfuckers catch me drinking in the month of June. I'll go to Walmart, buy hot pink panties and a bra and wear that shit and post a pic, no homo. I'm a man of my word as well. Me and alcohol are taking a break.
I've had a crazy couple of weeks so I want to tell y'all how I ended up in the city posted on today's pic, Costa Mesa, California. This started on Thursday night before the long weekend. It's been a roller-coaster year. For whatever reason these last couple of weeks have been up and down. Make no mistake, they're up right now and they'll probably remain that way but let's get into it. On Thursday before I left for NYC I got a big ass stash of some absinthe related stuff. Anise green stems. A variation of absinthe that will fuck you up with one drop. I do a quarter of a bottle. Then I get in a fight with shorty. It was pretty fucking bad but I don't really remember it. It went along the lines of "fuck you, get out of my life, I'm going to fuck your friend." About a week later she told me "don't worry about it, it was all her fault." That's when you know you have a luxurious life, you say shit to hot white people and they still take the fall when it was clearly all on me.
But anyways from what I remember I'm fucking wasted. Then I pissed my pants. Truth is it ain't like I sat there and just started to pee. I went to the bathroom, started pissing and all of a sudden the noise where it hits the water, just stopped. I wasn't watching my dick when I was pissing and it went on my boxers. Now I'm thinking fuck I can't go upstairs to get boxers, they'll know I'm drunk. So I wash my dick off in the bathtub and I wrap myself in a fucking bedsheet I found somewhere downstairs. Then I spend the rest of the time listening to Alice Cooper. I decide to watch " Up in the Air." I'm thinking fuck I'm going to end up like George Clooney in that shit. Now I'm fucking angry. In my drunken state I grab an old facebook account and try to add every chick in Orange county named "Jessica, Christine, and Angela." I was going with generic ass names.
I sent messages to over 1000 people giving them a link to the blog, telling them I'm wasted but if the world ends on Saturday then Cali is the place I want to be, if we're talking about idealism. I'm still fucking angry and I don't know why so I say fuck it, if the world were to end (I knew it wasn't but thinking about idealism) this isn't the way I'm going out. I open up google, keep in mind I'm not even wearing pants, a fucking bed sheet. I start to google psychiatrists, it's now 6:30am on Friday morning. I find one charging $170/hour near Bay St. I say fuck it, I'm going to see what this shit is about. I pack some vodka and cranberry in my backpack and I head out the door for a 7:30 appointment, pretty hammered but somewhat coherent.
I get to the office and say listen lady I know all about your Gesalt techniques. I know what "the book" has taught you to do. But I'm a fucking angry person for no reason. You know it wasn't for no real reason. The fact of the matter is I tried to help someone months ago and then the feds tried to pin me down for "abuse and negligence" on some of the biggest bullshit I ever seen in my life. I wanted to fix how I felt about that whole situation. I put the alcohol on the table and I say fuck your chair I'm standing up. I got $150 dollars, I'm going to talk for 55 minutes and in 5 minutes I want you to give me one fucking sentence to fix this. I'll give you the next $20 when I have it. She's startled but allows me to continue. I start telling her about my childhood and shit I've encountered in my life. Then I start yelling about how a Mini-Wheats commercial fucked up my day and how I hate prices and value is based on ill-constructed myths. I'm going on and on. She's just staring at me in awe. I tell her how I fucking hate so much shit because I live in a world of mediocrity, where I'm trapped and scared of what I might become. I go on and on and on.
After the 55 minutes are up she says, "go on." I say nah fuck it I'm done what's wrong with me. Her response, and I swear this shit sobered me right up. " Not a thing, you're brilliant and if the world had a thought process like you did it'd be such a better place. You're exactly what I needed on a day like today. I don't want your money, you helped me." I'm blankstaring the fuck out of this lady thinking this is not what I want to hear.
The story continues tomorrow.
3 comments:
Did u ever get to san diego?
Haha, yes! I can't wait to hear the end of this story.
shit i no longer get emails about blog comments, you'll have to wait and find out.
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