Weekend Journal 5-26-13: This Is All Your Fault Megan

26 May
image stolen from occupyobservations.blogspot.com

image stolen from occupyobservations.blogspot.com

I’m trying to masturbate to the redhead with the big titties from the Standard but the problem is, Julianne Moore has a movie coming out. So they interviewed her on NPR and I heard it and got her face stuck in my head. I get about three seconds of the redhead from the party before it becomes Julianne Moore’s pointy fucking Count Chocula face. Now you are cursed too. Go try to jerk off to a redhead and try not to think of Julianne Moore.

The redhead with the big titties wasn’t opening the door in room 413 and the party was winding down, so I admitted defeat and walked over to skid row to buy black tar heroin. The first guy I talked to just took my money and disappeared. He had handed me a garbage bag full of L.A. Kings T shirts as collateral, which I now own. Email me if you are extra large.

Eventually I found an old hooker who scored for me in exchange for two half pints of Kamchatka vodka from the convenience store. Got one for myself too. It’s actually not bad. I offered to get her high but she said no, I’m just a alcoholic.

You stupid, she said, comin around here with all that money. You a stupid motherfucker. Yeah, I’ve been briefed. I was wearing my tiny American Apparel swim trunks and one of those country western shirts with snaps. Black loafers. I was carrying a briefcase with my laptop in it. All around me were huge menacing black people. A man jumped off a kid’s Huffy bicycle to punch another man in the face. The origin of the dispute was unclear. No one paid attention. Cops would circle occasionally and they should have arrested me; there is no reason for me to be on that block except to buy black tar heroin.

This is your fault, Megan, with the red hair and big titties. Your cute dress over a bikini. If you had fucked me I could have let all my pent up energy out. I was drinking all day by a pool watching beautiful young pieces of ass saunter around in wispy wet bathing suits, grinding on girls on the dance floor with my half hard penis crammed in their ass cracks. I was wound up and it had to go somewhere; it was either gonna be pussy or hard drugs. If you had had unprotected sex with me on our first meeting like you should have, I’d have retired home quietly to a glass of chardonnay and a good book.

I can pinpoint the moment where I lost you. You were complaining to a bunch of dudes about how a guy who looked like Lenny Kravitz said he wanted to impregnate you. You started cuddling up to me and said you would rather have my baby. I went to get another drink, and saw Lenny. He actually looked more like a retarded black Robert Pattinson so I went back to tell you this. I should have stayed away. I had been playing it perfectly. Bumping into you around the party and saying a couple witty things and then taking off, leaving you wanting more. I lost it when I went back to make a lame joke about an old topic. You can never fuck up with women, not once. Meanwhile a gay guy invited me back to his room; I’m about 80 per cent certain I’ve seen him in black and white on a billboard with his shirt off. Maybe even Abercrombie and Fitch. So, I’m attractive apparently. Doesn’t matter. One lame joke and you’re done.

I have your number. Maybe I’ll call you. Take you out for a drink. I want to see your pink mouth around my cock and your bright red hair cascading over my hipbones.

The walk home was too long so I stopped to smoke my first balloon with a homeless guy, using foil from a discarded Philly cheese steak. Who else does this, I thought. Finds a down on his luck junkie and gives him free heroin. Dude better name his first child after me. I don’t remember feeling too high but it was three miles to get back in dress shoes and I couldn’t feel my feet hit the sidewalk. When I got home I called for the cat, I reached out to pick him up and I fell over into my neighbor’s rosemary patch. I fell pretty hard and it didn’t hurt. Now I smell like rosemary.

I got inside and smoked the second balloon and nodded off listening to Patrice O’Neal.

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22 Responses to “Weekend Journal 5-26-13: This Is All Your Fault Megan”

  1. Another Mary May 26, 2013 at 6:24 pm #

    Oh, DT….
    You know, I read your posts cause you’re a great writer, no matter what the subject. I have a boy your same age, Sometimes I think your posts give me insight to what my boy thinks and does, whether I like it or not. I see the similarities only a mom could spot, only J doesnt do coke. He likes opiates. Sometimes, he’ll throw me a morphine pill here and there (like Mother’s Day and then he took me out for oyster po’boys). You both seem to lead a similiar lifestyle. He’s a tech head, but has gone through his share of unemployment and sitting around playing video games and partying with help from EDD and me. One difference, he’s not into white girls. His girlfriends tend to be black, asian or latina. Sometimes, I notice they have big butts and one boob will be bigger than the other in their sheer tank tops. I like that about him. That he didn’t fall into the same old mold where girls with blonde highlights and big tits are the most desirable women to have. He’s secretly a big softie and very sensitive. I think you’re like that too. J likes cats too. Sometimes, when I read your blog posts, I’m reminded of J and think”,God, what a fuckup, but I love you anyways and always.”

    • Anonymous May 27, 2013 at 5:46 pm #

      ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED

      You’re now as much of a winner as this lady’s son.

      gg DT

  2. Bruce Banner May 27, 2013 at 7:46 am #

    Have you hit rock bottom, DT? You keep surprising your numerous heartless readers. Only Mary seems to care.

  3. nikolhasler May 27, 2013 at 9:21 am #

    Stop smoking heroin this instant

    • Anonymous May 27, 2013 at 5:09 pm #

      Agreed. Do we need to worry? Christ, dude.

  4. Little Miss S May 27, 2013 at 8:29 pm #

    I was hoping the heroin was poetic license…if not, ye gods…stop!! I’ve seen too many young, beautiful men destroyed by it…hate for that to happen to you, DT.

    • Anonymous May 27, 2013 at 8:59 pm #

      He’s not young

    • Anonymous May 27, 2013 at 9:54 pm #

      Everyone cheers at the Colosseum.

      • Anonymous May 27, 2013 at 9:55 pm #

        The magnum opus will be his untimely death.

      • Anonymous May 27, 2013 at 10:00 pm #

        HIS GREATEST WORK: THE GREATEST FALL.

        The magnum opus will be his untimely yet-fully-expected death.

  5. Anonymous May 27, 2013 at 9:02 pm #

    He’s not young. Interesting though that heroin is the button. What about violently binge drinking or putting your duck in dirty bear traps–that’s just kids stuff still? It’s an all around destruction train. Heroin schmeroin. The red flag is an intellectual drowning in the lowest brow abyss. Hollywood, tanning beds, faceless retard pussy, Von’s. …

    • Jake May 28, 2013 at 2:54 am #

      Don’t forget nikols.

      • nikolhasler May 31, 2013 at 9:05 pm #

        “Don’t forget nikols.”

        Nobody does.

    • Little Miss S May 29, 2013 at 12:56 pm #

      Oh I guess you’re right, he looks younger than his age in his videos, so I forgot he’s not 20-something. And good point about wondering why heroin sounds the alarm when all of the other “bad behaviors” don’t. It just seems more drastic somehow.

      • nikolhasler May 29, 2013 at 1:16 pm #

        It’s anti-social. I’m not keen on DT on coke, either, since he gets pretty insane over needing to get it, and it turns into a problem. But at least with cocaine 1-You call a guy and meet him somewhere and score. 2- It’s social.
        My fears about DT and heroin are selfish. I don’t need one more thing keeping him away from me. If he gets hooked in to a heroin binge, I won’t see that fucker for a long while. And if he uses it the same way he uses every other substance, he’s going to die. And our plan has always been that I die first.

      • Heroin is not a drug that you binge on like coke, Nikol. Once it gets it’s hooks into you, it’s a wrap. You’re done. You’re hopelessly hooked physically until you either A.) check yourself into a rehab, B.) get locked up for one reason or another, or, C.) die. You better talk to your boy.

  6. mindstar May 28, 2013 at 12:44 pm #

    DT Heroin is death on the installment plan. Let it go

  7. K-hole (@Kaywhole) May 30, 2013 at 10:57 am #

    This is what you spend my donation money on?

  8. Oh shit, cracker, what the fuck are you doing? Rule #1 of copping in the hood: never ever ever give anyone your money until you got drugs in your hand. You might as well just say, “here take this and go buy yourself a Chinese platter and a 40.” I mean, unless they got a .357 magnum pointed in your face as has happened to me.

    That black tar shit is fucking garbage, though. It’s like the nastiest, lowest-grade, unrefined dope you can buy. You know how they make that stuff, right? They take a bunch of Mexican donkeys and force feed them a mixture of raw opium and gasoline. Kind of like foie gras ducks. They just jam a pneumatic pump down their throats and shoot it into their stomachs where, when combined with the donkey’s stomach acid, it synthesizes into a form of heroin which they then shit out: Black tar.

    I remember years ago running into a junky who had been living out in Cali and banging that stuff. He had these marks all up and down his arms that looked like cigar burns from missing his veins with that shit. I don’t know what kind of caustic shit is in it that it did that to him, but it looked brutal.

  9. lightening epidermis along July 5, 2013 at 4:21 pm #

    I don’t even know how I ended up here, but I thought this post was great. I don’t know who you are but certainly
    you are going to a famous blogger if you aren’t already ;) Cheers!

Trackbacks/Pingbacks

  1. Reader Mailbag: No Way to Live | delicioustacos - May 28, 2013

    […] This weekend seems like a good rock bottom. Failing to fuck and walking around skid row in faggoty boxer shorts waving money to get shitty Mexican smack. That sounds like a good stopping point. Because honestly what I was doing was trying to die. […]

  2. My Name is Delicious Tacos, and I’m an Alcoholic | delicioustacos - February 9, 2014

    […] church basement full of shakey handed fiends. One thing will break me. And cracking my skull on black tar heroin wasn’t it. Screaming at Ramparts Division cops wasn’t it. Beating up a woman while […]

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