oct 30

The full realization of the American Dream, rather... MY American Dream... came to me while I crawled towards a strangers yard to throw up bourbon whiskey and dr pepper onto their green, well kept yard. My poison breath, maybe spots will form there, on that lawn, where no grass will ever grow again. Dead patches. I used an American flag to wipe the vomit from my chin. I slurred my words and found myself blacked out in the back of a flashing taxi. I have a scar on my right arm, inside bicep, where intravenous operations are performed. Appears a rash. Perhaps it formed when I fell sideways in the hall, waiting in line to puke in the bathroom. For some reason I thought this would be the best place to get on with my embarrassment in the most subtle way possible. Ya know. Throw up all that 'bad beer' and come out anew, steal some mouthwash or cologne and clean up a bit. Get rid of the bad layer and rebuild at a better position. But it all went wrong. Knocks came on the door. I had no time. My face was red and eyes streaming a bit. Dry heaves mostly. It took some stumbling and spinning to enhance the nausea. Well. At least I put the toilet seat down. A gesture I find habitual as well as somewhat rude or ignorant to be forgotten. Anyway. I stumble outside and sit on the curb. Dead drunk. This was the end of a night that was not all bad. I ran through 6 hours or so with full momentum, never slowing down for a second. The first party nurtured my insanity. I smashed drum sticks with deliberate licks and rolls. Representative of different musical styles. Chill sesh. Jam sesh. Soaked in sweat. Too drunk to regulate body temperature. Belligerence is unattractive unless everyone involved is belligerent. Understand simple commands like, shut up, let's go make out somewhere, what are you dressed up as? the questions become less interesting and personal and more egotistic and boring. this guy is so fucked up etc. well now I came as the american dream. the american dude. our team. your team. lets play some drinking games and pour out some beer for all fallen stock car drivers, dale earnhart respectively. and so on