I woke up at 3 am this morning. I did not want this, but it just happened even though I'd taken a sleeping pill. I tried to remember my dream, but nothing came to mind. I did have morning wood, so out of boredom (and hopes that it would help me get back to sleep), I masturbated for about 15 minutes. Nothing happened.
I took a pill and had a few drinks, but I had to do something until sleep finally took me over. I decided to reread Bukowski's FACTOTUM. I read about twenty chapters before the drugs and booze kicked in. Then I read a few more chapters to make sure the job got done.
Nothing makes one feel better than being intoxicated at 4 am and reading from Bukowski. I passed out soon after, and I didn't get up until 1 pm. It felt wonderful.
Showing posts with label charles bukowski. Show all posts
Showing posts with label charles bukowski. Show all posts
Saturday, December 5, 2015
Sunday, July 20, 2014
GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #14: I'M DRUNK! DRUNK!
sdnovsfnpvsdfophsdfhiop euphdfuioph sergnipeioprwpusegnposdgpsreguophsrgr posgnpsdfg gj;bdfvfuipbstbipwerpbsdfv drunk sijvsdpjsnj fuck advppsddfnp dick qehp eopwgbpwdeuipb efuhqerbipegbiou
Or something like that.
Seriously, I could never in a million years describe what happened tonight. I'm suddenly reminded of my youth, when any number of crazy things could happen--and then actually did.
This old man's got to rest his bones. I'm going to be 36 next week, and I have all sorts of medical problems. I should probably stop doing all the ridiculous shit I'm doing . . . but . . . well . . . when Charles Bukowski was a younger man, he was told by a doctor that he must stop drinking or he'd die. It depressed him so much he went directly from the doctor's office to a bar, because he needed a drink.
The dude lived for DECADES after that, drinking heavily the whole time. He didn't even die from his habits. Leukemia got him.
But still. I bet you fuckers thought I wouldn't post anything before passing out. Hell, I'm with you. I should have passed out hours ago. I'm not supposed to drink this much. I've had a half-pint of Jameson, a half-pint of Wild Turkey 101, five shots of Bulleit, a Gonzo Imperial (thanks, Katrina!), and maybe--MAYBE--four shots of Fleischmann's (but that was in the afternoon, when I was getting ready for the night).
My doctor is going to murder me. He's going to take one look at me and kill me with his eye lasers. FUCK.
Or something like that.
Seriously, I could never in a million years describe what happened tonight. I'm suddenly reminded of my youth, when any number of crazy things could happen--and then actually did.
This old man's got to rest his bones. I'm going to be 36 next week, and I have all sorts of medical problems. I should probably stop doing all the ridiculous shit I'm doing . . . but . . . well . . . when Charles Bukowski was a younger man, he was told by a doctor that he must stop drinking or he'd die. It depressed him so much he went directly from the doctor's office to a bar, because he needed a drink.
The dude lived for DECADES after that, drinking heavily the whole time. He didn't even die from his habits. Leukemia got him.
But still. I bet you fuckers thought I wouldn't post anything before passing out. Hell, I'm with you. I should have passed out hours ago. I'm not supposed to drink this much. I've had a half-pint of Jameson, a half-pint of Wild Turkey 101, five shots of Bulleit, a Gonzo Imperial (thanks, Katrina!), and maybe--MAYBE--four shots of Fleischmann's (but that was in the afternoon, when I was getting ready for the night).
My doctor is going to murder me. He's going to take one look at me and kill me with his eye lasers. FUCK.
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