Tag Archives: alcohol

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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Business Review: Royale Junior Liquor Market, Echo Park

28 Aug

Image stolen from Flickr user “OrangeCounty_Girl”

(Originally posted on Yelp.)

I must say I like the lack of personal interest the clerk at the Royale Junior Liquor Market has in my purchasing habits.  I mean, he may not even notice– he’s working at the type of place where he’s in front of a giant wall of Old Crow pint bottles and novelty skull and pistol shaped fifths of tequila, behind three quarters of an inch of GE® Lexan™ bulletproof plexiglass.  He faces a large shelf of pornographic DVD’s specifically tailored to the prurient interests of working-class Mexicans, whose bright eye-catching covers leave nothing to the imagination.  Shit is distracting. He has more things to worry about than my weird unnecessarily frequent and expensive daily purchases of small bottles of alcohol.  He has to stock nine different kinds of non FDA-approved herbal pill packets designed to enlarge your penis, give you bigger and more meaningful erections, enhance your sexual desire until is as that of el tigre.  He has to eyeball stumbling drunk day laborers as they come dangerously close to shoplifting a Payday; ward off these miscreants with merely the shaming power of his gaze.  He has to vigilantly head off customers steering toward the inoperable ATM machine in front– he clearly prides himself on sparing them a useless button push and confounded few seconds of bewilderment– “Hey! Is not working.”  The ATM is never working, but the giant glowing sign telling the public that the store has an ATM is always working. Continue reading