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Protected: Weekend Journal: The Heart Touching Magic of Cocaine Hydrochloride

1 Feb

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Protected: Weekend Journal: Blackout

25 Jan

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Protected: Weekend Journal: Mexico City Part 1

16 Sep

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Protected: Weekend Journal: Crimes and Misdemeanors

8 Sep

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Protected: Weekend Journal: Can’t Live With ‘Em, Can’t Live Without ‘Em

7 Jul

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

26 May

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Weekend Journal 5-5-13: House of Spirits

5 May
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Image stolen from Flickr user avalon_music

I need to stop drinking and I can’t. I get drunk every night, usually alone. Most nights it’s pretty harmless; I just play Xbox. Last night I walked down to the Cinco de Mayo DUI checkpoint on Sunset and started loudly fucking with cops. Eventually they circled up around me like a wall of beatdown and told me they were gonna book me for public intoxication. At the time I had courage, I was screaming a bunch of slogans I heard in youtube videos about Constitutional rights and am I being detained. In reality I was a loud asshole fucking with people trying to do their jobs, and was in fact publicly intoxicated, and probably in danger of running into traffic. Still. I did get one guy to not say shit and not blow into the breathalyzer and I got his wife to call a lawyer instead. He got a ticket, not a DUI, and they let him go. I saved him ten grand. Probably half of what he makes in a year. He will probably kill a child driving drunk now. Continue reading

Protected: Weekend Journal 4-13-13: Pay for Play

17 Apr

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Protected: Weekend Journal: Curse of the Monkey’s Paw

8 Apr

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Weekend Journal 1-13-13: Piss All Over

13 Jan

I punched Astrid in the back of the head, and she pissed on me.  Her skull made a sound like a coconut.  I forget what we were fighting about.  We were drunk, obviously.  She had had a party.  I drank two bottles of Andre® Extra Dry Sparkling California Wine from the sale rack at CVS and probably a bunch of other shit.  God only knows what she put down; she drinks like an Irish coal miner.  I was wrestling with her and kind of getting on top of her and squashing her; she likes that kind of shit because she was molested.  Then I popped her one.  You need to understand that this isn’t some shit where she cries and calls the police; she likes to get hit.  I like hitting her.  Thanks, child sex predators.

Original artwork by yours truly, in Nikol's room

Original artwork by yours truly, in Astrid’s room.

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