me, booze, and Salvidor Dali
This one is going to take a while.
I believe I have a background with alcohol, drugs, sex, and other taboo that is at least slightly different that that of the average person my age. To explain this I might have to subject you to a brief history of myself. So, to start it off, I grew up under conditions that essentially allowed me to do whatever the hell I wanted. The normal restrictions regarding drugs and such weren't really there for me at all. What I got was a front row seat to watch my sister and all her friends indulge their appetite in their freely accessible wantonness (not that I have anything against said pleasures but it's not acceptable in the broader social realm). They smoked, they screwed, they drank, they partied, hell they even huffed and sniffed a bunch I'm sure, then they probably screwed some more. Lots of sex. Me, not so much.
I don't mean to prate about all this, so to make a long story short, with the total acceptance of such deeds, my way of rebelling was to actually be as orthodox and decorous as possible (maybe those aren't the right words but I can't think of any others). This is probably the exact opposite of what most kids would have done. It seems odd I bet, but for me, rebellion was to be as proper as possible (which comparatively wasn't all that proper now that I think of it). Basically, I chose to be as big of a loser, geek, scholar, and whatnot as I could. I was never sheltered, quite the opposite in fact, but it sort of had the same effect. I don't regret any of it but now, and this is what I was leading up to, when it comes to drinking, I really can't hold my shit at all (I also only weigh about 115 too which doesn't help), and end up with a silly mustache drawn on me rather early in the night.
The thing about drinking is it's all good fun until you can't get back to your dorm and end up passing out on your friend's floor with nothing but a sheet and and some lame beanie pillow thing. The experience would have been better if I had had either someone to share the moment with or someone to kill and use as a mattress, preferably someone soft and flat.
I actually told myself that I wasn't going to drink all that much. I said to myself, "Matt, you're a little man and you could hurt yourself. Show some restraint." And I did this to a certain extent but it was made clear to me early on that I wasn't going to be able to enjoy myself without getting seriously inebriated. I was all up with the not drinking so much plan until about 30 seconds after I got the first party. That's about how long it took for me to realize how awful the night would be if I had to pass the time sober. So, to the drinking I went. The first two beers tasted like piss but after that, well they still tasted like piss, but I didn't really care anymore because it only takes about two beers for me to start seeing pink elephants.
a recount:
I met a girl at the first party who I knew from my calculus class (details are a bit hairy) and she seemed to think I was a rather funny person. This I think would have led to decent night if my friend, who was sort of the leader of this whole ordeal, hadn't dragged me out of the party. It turned out this was for the best because there were some fine policemen outside waiting to spoil everyone's fun. This might have also been the party where I met two girls I know who seemed a little taken aback to see me intoxicated. But, once again, details are a little fuzzy.
The second party. All I remember about this is that there was some happy fellow walking/dancing around completely naked. He was having a good time and it didn't seem to bother anyone so good for him (I actually have to question whether this man even knew he was naked). Also, sometime between the first party and the second, my friend and I, under watch by his girlfriend, relieved ourselves in the road. I didn't think much of it at the time, but looking back now, I don't think I would have whipped it out right then to take a piss if I had been on the wagon.
Third party. I really don't remember this one at all. I think it was rather lousy and some asshole wearing an airplane costume wouldn't leave us alone, more specifically, wouldn't leave my lady friend alone. So, my friend's girlfriend and I destroyed it while he was busy in his stupor. Attacked it with a pin. Put big holes in his stupid fucking Boeing 737. Not very nice I guess, but the kid was a jackass. Seriously, who dresses up as an airplane for Halloween? That's like going as a tube a toothpaste or a pogo stick or some other inanimate object. Fuck that guy.
I didn't really mention it, but my lady friend that I like went with us. This made me very happy because I enjoy being around her but she spent most of her time with some old friend of hers who happen to join us. They were really close the entire night and I wasn't ever really able to spend much time with her alone which would have been nice but I can't really complain. She's sort of a hard one to read. At one point in the night I had decided she was a lesbian because of how close she was getting with her friend but now I'm not sure. I also can't tell at all if she's into me or not or what she even thinks of me for that matter. She probably thinks I'm an arrogant asshole. I wouldn't blame her. I also think she reads my blog now and in fact knows everything I've said about her on here, since it's not like she'd have to be clairvoyant to figure out I'm talking about her.
I'm not even positive of this though.... fuck this post is long. Oh, Salvidor Dali. That was my costume. I normally wear the hat and jacket so my friend's girlfriend just drew a silly mustache on me. I think I looked quite dashing.
I want to bring this post to some sort of closure but can't think of how to do that. Maybe a few words of wisdom.
Words of Wisdom: Don't post a link to your blog where a girl who you like and talk about on your blog can find it and read it, thus knowing what you think of her and having the ability to make you feel very awkward.
"I saw her today at the reception
In her glass was a bleeding man
She was practiced at the art of deception
Well I could tell by her blood-stained hands"
I believe I have a background with alcohol, drugs, sex, and other taboo that is at least slightly different that that of the average person my age. To explain this I might have to subject you to a brief history of myself. So, to start it off, I grew up under conditions that essentially allowed me to do whatever the hell I wanted. The normal restrictions regarding drugs and such weren't really there for me at all. What I got was a front row seat to watch my sister and all her friends indulge their appetite in their freely accessible wantonness (not that I have anything against said pleasures but it's not acceptable in the broader social realm). They smoked, they screwed, they drank, they partied, hell they even huffed and sniffed a bunch I'm sure, then they probably screwed some more. Lots of sex. Me, not so much.
I don't mean to prate about all this, so to make a long story short, with the total acceptance of such deeds, my way of rebelling was to actually be as orthodox and decorous as possible (maybe those aren't the right words but I can't think of any others). This is probably the exact opposite of what most kids would have done. It seems odd I bet, but for me, rebellion was to be as proper as possible (which comparatively wasn't all that proper now that I think of it). Basically, I chose to be as big of a loser, geek, scholar, and whatnot as I could. I was never sheltered, quite the opposite in fact, but it sort of had the same effect. I don't regret any of it but now, and this is what I was leading up to, when it comes to drinking, I really can't hold my shit at all (I also only weigh about 115 too which doesn't help), and end up with a silly mustache drawn on me rather early in the night.
The thing about drinking is it's all good fun until you can't get back to your dorm and end up passing out on your friend's floor with nothing but a sheet and and some lame beanie pillow thing. The experience would have been better if I had had either someone to share the moment with or someone to kill and use as a mattress, preferably someone soft and flat.
I actually told myself that I wasn't going to drink all that much. I said to myself, "Matt, you're a little man and you could hurt yourself. Show some restraint." And I did this to a certain extent but it was made clear to me early on that I wasn't going to be able to enjoy myself without getting seriously inebriated. I was all up with the not drinking so much plan until about 30 seconds after I got the first party. That's about how long it took for me to realize how awful the night would be if I had to pass the time sober. So, to the drinking I went. The first two beers tasted like piss but after that, well they still tasted like piss, but I didn't really care anymore because it only takes about two beers for me to start seeing pink elephants.
a recount:
I met a girl at the first party who I knew from my calculus class (details are a bit hairy) and she seemed to think I was a rather funny person. This I think would have led to decent night if my friend, who was sort of the leader of this whole ordeal, hadn't dragged me out of the party. It turned out this was for the best because there were some fine policemen outside waiting to spoil everyone's fun. This might have also been the party where I met two girls I know who seemed a little taken aback to see me intoxicated. But, once again, details are a little fuzzy.
The second party. All I remember about this is that there was some happy fellow walking/dancing around completely naked. He was having a good time and it didn't seem to bother anyone so good for him (I actually have to question whether this man even knew he was naked). Also, sometime between the first party and the second, my friend and I, under watch by his girlfriend, relieved ourselves in the road. I didn't think much of it at the time, but looking back now, I don't think I would have whipped it out right then to take a piss if I had been on the wagon.
Third party. I really don't remember this one at all. I think it was rather lousy and some asshole wearing an airplane costume wouldn't leave us alone, more specifically, wouldn't leave my lady friend alone. So, my friend's girlfriend and I destroyed it while he was busy in his stupor. Attacked it with a pin. Put big holes in his stupid fucking Boeing 737. Not very nice I guess, but the kid was a jackass. Seriously, who dresses up as an airplane for Halloween? That's like going as a tube a toothpaste or a pogo stick or some other inanimate object. Fuck that guy.
I didn't really mention it, but my lady friend that I like went with us. This made me very happy because I enjoy being around her but she spent most of her time with some old friend of hers who happen to join us. They were really close the entire night and I wasn't ever really able to spend much time with her alone which would have been nice but I can't really complain. She's sort of a hard one to read. At one point in the night I had decided she was a lesbian because of how close she was getting with her friend but now I'm not sure. I also can't tell at all if she's into me or not or what she even thinks of me for that matter. She probably thinks I'm an arrogant asshole. I wouldn't blame her. I also think she reads my blog now and in fact knows everything I've said about her on here, since it's not like she'd have to be clairvoyant to figure out I'm talking about her.
I'm not even positive of this though.... fuck this post is long. Oh, Salvidor Dali. That was my costume. I normally wear the hat and jacket so my friend's girlfriend just drew a silly mustache on me. I think I looked quite dashing.
I want to bring this post to some sort of closure but can't think of how to do that. Maybe a few words of wisdom.
Words of Wisdom: Don't post a link to your blog where a girl who you like and talk about on your blog can find it and read it, thus knowing what you think of her and having the ability to make you feel very awkward.
"I saw her today at the reception
In her glass was a bleeding man
She was practiced at the art of deception
Well I could tell by her blood-stained hands"
posted by velvetcake at 12:17 AM
8 Comments:
Sounds about right. Let's do it again soon!
Ps - it's "Booze". not "Boose". That's a bar in Gloversville where older men try to pick up high school girls.
PPS - It's "Taboo" not "Tabu", "Tabu" is what someone might call the pop sensation "TATU" with a lisp.
Actually, I just looked it up and my dictionary says it can be spelled either way. Both have the same meaning.
All i have to say is, hahaha.
Good stuff Matt, good stuff.
why do I have to be "the friend's girlfriend"?
You don't have to be; you're so much more than that. I apologize.
Oh, of course. A girl doesn't find you attractive - she must be a lesbian! Makes perfect sense.
I certainly never said that. Me thinking that she could be a lesbian was simply because of how close she was with her friend... I was also drunk that night so it's not exactly like I was thinking straight either (she was drunk too so maybe that explains some of it).
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