Weekend Journal: Blackout

25 Jan
image stolen from fansided.com

image stolen from fansided.com

As the sun came up there was a clipped muttering somewhere. Like a tut tut tut. Woke me up. It had been a demon’s voice in my dreams, tut tut tutting me. Tut tut tut you’re going to hell. I was on the couch in my clothes, still blind drunk. Tut tut tut– what the fuck was it.

It was a chicken. One of my neighbors got a chicken. Fucking thing was up at dawn screaming at the sun. Have to kill the chicken, I thought. No one living in the first world should be awakened by a chicken. I imagined climbing his cinder block wall. Dropping over the other side into his cement courtyard with the potted herbs. Snapping the beast’s neck. Vivid. I could feel the rough concrete on my palms. The bird kicking. I slipped back into dreams.

My face hurt. I had to be told what happened in the morning. I tried to fuck my friend’s girl and he almost beat me up. He was on top of me on the couch with his thumbs pressed in my eyes. Saying I’m going to kill you. Don’t say another word, if you say another word I’m going to hurt you. The girl, begging him to calm down.

All I remembered was saying we should get her naked. Do an Eiffel Tower. She seemed like she’d be into it. But I’m told I kept saying it over and over for two hours, her in earshot. I’d drunk a bottle of two dollar wine and a pint of Ten High bourbon and then she brought a twelve pack. If I take one drink I will drink as much as there is. Stumbling and slurring. Couldn’t stop looking at her perfect creamy titties. She used to be fat. Girls who used to be fat will do an Eiffel Tower, I reasoned. We were watching Behind the Candelabra. I kept saying the real guy in the movie was sixteen years old. And: let’s get her naked. My buddy’s had a long cold streak. It made him protective.

My other buddy set up a porn studio. He’ll text me things like: I got a whore set up. You come over and fuck her face while I take her in the ass. I got a blowjob from a 19 year old Mexican on my lunch break Tuesday. When I walked in my buddy was ejaculating on her cunt lips. Sorry bro, he told me; I couldn’t wait. She sucked me off after we chatted briefly about freeway traffic. The IT guy was there setting up editing software. He watched. Earlier I had a camera close on a girl’s pussy while a guy stabbed it with three stiff fingers. She screamed, squirted in my face. She’d been eating asparagus. This is my life now. Women are objects. Let’s get her naked and do an Eiffel Tower.

I remember thinking: maybe I can take him. My best friend for twenty years. I got six inches on him but he’s Korean. All Korean men are seething wolverines with souls made of pure rage. He used to bench 275 but fell off. I’ve been keeping up. Stronger than him for the first time in our lives, I thought. Maybe I could take him. I could not have taken him. He would have beat my ass savagely.

They left. I sat on the couch and wept. Thinking the most important friendship in my life was over. Drunk sobbing, sounds like a dog that ate yarn. Then blackness. Then the chicken.

We made up in the morning. Tonight I’m taking him to a porn shoot. Girl jerks a guy off with her feet in a North Hollywood apartment. I was asked to bring coconut oil.

10 Responses to “Weekend Journal: Blackout”

  1. Atlanta Man January 25, 2014 at 6:53 pm #

    Finally, I have been waiting all week for you to post. As usual Hill-Fucking-Larious! God my life sucks!

    • Soinclined January 26, 2014 at 5:24 am #

      I loved Atlanta in a completely unrequited fashion. Atlanta is a place where they’ll try to work you 55 hours a week for $25K and tell you that you should feel fortunate that they’ve taken the time to fuck you out of your livelihood. After all, you could be on some form or another of Welfare like just about everybody else.

      Government assistance took the place of subsistence agriculture for more people than you’d believe. These folks then howl about how much they pay in taxes when they’re all net tax consumers.

      I got the fuck out, finally. Most of the South, but especially North Georgia, is nothing but a very beautiful place to slowly starve to death.

      • Atlanta Man January 28, 2014 at 10:19 am #

        Not my experience, sorry you had to endure that. More Tacos!

  2. Anonymous January 26, 2014 at 3:11 am #

    God your life is pathetic – but at least it gets you writing. More!

    • Atlanta Man January 28, 2014 at 10:17 am #

      More , more ,more! Delicious tacos you are the feces I love it!

  3. Fredulous January 26, 2014 at 10:54 am #

    Maybe your drunkenness brought out the latent homosexuality that has been festering inside you for the duration of your life. Why else would you want to have sex with a woman in a manner that involves having a full view of your best male friend’s naked body?

    • Anonymous January 26, 2014 at 1:02 pm #

      According to previous blog posts it wouldn’t have been DT’s first threesome (just fyi)

    • jake January 29, 2014 at 5:33 am #

      some guys you just know their sex life is all about missionary position, in a dark room. in his mom’s basement. with his cousin. who was passed out.

  4. Michelle Morgan January 28, 2014 at 3:53 pm #

    Pretty sure you need to eat that chicken. Or at least put it in the porn.

  5. Branwen Cromer January 30, 2014 at 8:38 pm #

    Love your writing style.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: