Tuesday, 4 May 2010

Bar Hopping!

I love Drinking! When I was a wee nibble I loved it then too. Any libation really, water, soda, lemonade. When I was older I moved to booze. Vodka, Boones Farm, brandy, rum and all my favourite men, Johnny Walker, Jose Cuervo, Jim Bean, The Two Glen's, both Fiddich and Livitte and of course my main man Jack! Drinking takes stamina balls and a cast iron stomach. The other night I went out with a friend to have a few drinks, which crossed the line into virtual alcohol poisoning. Two wallets lost, a broken wrist and a minor mugging, and me looking like I got caught in the garbage disposal. I had no recollection of me even leaving the bar. The last I remember I was doing the bump with a cool chick from South London, innit!

I left my shame in the back of a cab many many years ago. I am not really a violent drunk,cuase I like to party! PARTY hardy, or as I did last Friday... Part-TAY! Oh ok, so I found my head in the toilet and I smelled like road kill, but I can tell you what I had a smile on my face till I woke up nude on my couch the next morning. There is something to be said about serious bar hopping. I am not a youngen any more where I can just pop some alka-seltzer and call in sick the next day and do it all over again. Why cause I woke up with Catholic guilt, and I am not even fucking religious. I felt dirty and shamefull like I drank a beer soaked ash tray for a double shot of tequilla. And once on a dare I did, gross! I once did a beer bong and was impressed that I could do it, thanks to me loosing my gag reflex. Yet a friend lost her diamond tooth going after me. Yeah fun is had but I have work to do and now I will only visit the dark side maybe once a year. By saying dark side I mean drink, DRINK, God Damn IT DRINK, to where I feel like I rolled in a gutter and lost my wig drunk. And that is now every blue moon. I retired my shot glass many years ago and partied enough for four life spans and hard enough to earn a fucking PHD in PAR-TAY!

I've made my piece now I am made to piece together myself and hopefully my drunken shame. Ironically I live in a plae where they fear Binge Drinking. Like some sort of VD that makes people
foam at the mouth at the nearest sight of a pint glass. Yet I do have a favourite sound. The sound of clinking ice cubes in empty highball glass, one I used to respond to when my friend wanted to go out bar hopping. I would hear the shake and a giggle, to which I would where reply where and when. I know these ads always made me laugh because I can look back on some nights and smile. I will be the first in line to admit that I have ended a night looking like these two fools on a number of occasions, but as I get older, luckily the nights get further and further apart. I still will answer the call just not as often as my liver needs a better vacation from time to time. A screw it, Bottoms UP and make it a hard double! I should have something to eat first.

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