I've mentioned being a menace to society. Have I told you that I am a menace to myself?
Last night:
1. Lost my phone stylus
2. Lost my little anchor necklace
3. Blood in the vomit
4. Vomit on the sheets
5. Realised that available sheets are too small for my bed
The anchor really gets to me. My shitty little black heart is going to burst out of my chest and leave me for the crazy shenanigans that I had been a part of on that Thursday night. The little blood in the vomit? Fuck it, I've just lost my favourite irreplacable necklace. I can make the blood in the vomit thing but I sure as fuck can't weld and mold me a perfect little anchor charm.
Before that shitwrecking whirlwind, I had fun. I laughed at/with people, rolled around in the grass with a goon bag, almost stepped in dog shit, talked to a german shepard, harassed people playing pool and got matching rub-on freddo tattoos with good people.
People always talked about being blind drunk and I thought it was just some stupid sugar coated term that people used to explain why they ended up sleeping with the large nymphomaniac. Blind drunk is real. I remember sitting down and not being able to see straight, everything was just a mix of colours and unbearable noise. What's most surprising is that I couldn't see anyone, yet I could see the vomit on my shoes when pointed out to me.
Like my vomit, this blog is a little bit everywhere.
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2 comments:
You sure do know how to have some fun. Well done :)
The german shepard and I exchanged words and at the end of the night we had gained a better understanding of each others lifestyle and culture.
I hope he didn't eat my necklace.
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