image stolen from thomas “the pussycrusher” kinkade
It’s the light that gets me. Dark at 4:30. I just want to drink and sleep. You try to go outside but it’s cold and all the girls walking around have big sweaters on. No more yoga pants. Why go outside if you won’t see a fully defined pubic mound, the mathematically perfect curve of an ass crack jiggling. What’s the point.
Drink and sleep. Your hormones crash. Go to the gym and your strength has fallen off a cliff. Creaky joints. Every movement grates like bone on bone. I believe I tore my rotator cuff. This is another way of saying: my shoulder hurts. “Rotator cuff” is the only piece of shoulder anatomy I know the name of. Therefore I tore my rotator cuff. No heavy bench press, no heavy military. I now have the upper body of Barbie without the tits. It hurts when I hold the bar to dead lift. It hurts when I support the bar to squat. It hurts when I do a pullup. Continue reading
image stolen from vosizneias.com
(This is a selection from my book Hot Naked Tits, which you can buy here.)
Yesterday was gonna be the day I stopped drinking. But I got stuck in traffic. Tanker truck caught on fire on the 60 freeway. It was carrying liquid hydrogen. Hindenburg. All lanes closed in both directions.
I don’t take the 60 freeway, but everyone who does jumped on my freeway of choice, the 10 East. It was my day to stop drinking. For the first hour I took it. Stuck with the plan. But I’d been driving all day. It got dark on the road. The radio just kept telling me about the horrible traffic conditions I was in, every channel. Defeatist messages. Folks, it’s gonna be bad out there for a while. As we’ve been reporting the 60 is closed. Of course you have your alternate routes, the 10 and the 210. But those are stacked up now too from downtown past Azusa. There’s a ripple effect going on here folks. The 605 and 710 are a sea of red. The 101 is stop and go through downtown past Hollywood. And the 5 is on fire, the commuters have begun torching their cars and eating passengers’ flesh. Trees blackened. No life left in the hills except one sinister looking cactus. Starved crows circling. If you’re an alcoholic, you’re gonna want to drink extra liquor tonight to power through the sensations you’re gonna be feeling for the next several hours. I am speaking directly to you, Delicious Tacos, the announcer said. You are an idiot for wanting to stop drinking. Why would you torture yourself further. Think of that first drink. The one that makes this all go away. Continue reading
image stolen from insperity.com
Credit-wrecking broke. Now I have to get a real job. I got hooked up with a recruiting agency. They represent “cool” companies. You sound “cool” if you work there. Squinting into spreadsheets just like the Fonz. Silicon Valley related shit, which means they pay you a fuckload of money to answer a phone. 65 grand a year plus OT, which is a king’s ransom to me. I’d be wearing suits made of gold and smoking fine cigars. For me fast living is buying two pints in a bar at four bucks a pop instead of pounding a pint of hobo brandy outside and then drinking water. Fast living is getting the brakes fixed on the car, instead of hoping you don’t have to stop fast. Fast living is not waiting until you’re getting five collection calls a day from Verizon, five collection calls a day from Time Warner. A text from Progressive saying “We’re sorry you decided not to stay with us.” You’re meant to say “WAIT! I NEVER MEANT TO LEAVE YOU, HERE’S MONEY!” This is Verizon Wireless with important information regarding a change to your account. Market researched words. Words that made the most lab monkeys press the button. Important information regarding a change to your account: give us money. Continue reading