..:S...P...I...D...E...R...B...I...T...E...S:..

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

"He picks up a bus and he throws it back down."
- "Godzilla" - Blue Oyster Cult


Drunk as fuck. how drunk? let me ask you this: how the fuck can i drive home this drunk and pass like 9 cops and they don't do shit? what do i have to do for someone to get me off the fucking street. pull me over, goddamnit. i'm so fucking drunk that i drove past my apartment about 20 miles, jumped a curb, turned around and got home about 3 hours after i left the bar. this bar is only about 30 miles from my house. the sun shouldn't be coming up as i get home. why have i been driving all night? because i'm drunk and fucking lost. do your fucking job you piece of shit. stop my ass and get me off the street. i dare you. i wonder if i might be the most skilled drunk driver of all time. i've gone how many years without a DUI? ever? this is a real problem i think. because this can't be healthy. the only thing worse than me typing this up while i'm fucking hammered is how i'm now grabbing one of my cats that's sniffing my leg and i'm agressively petting it as it waits to be released. this is what would happen to one of my kids. if i had one. i would stumble in the door all loud and drunk, wake up the entire household, then loudly explain to my child (or cat) all about life and hipocracy and pat him on the back too hard and send his ass to bed full of drunken wisdom. you know, there should be a place where i can pull over, like a pitstop or something, when i'm this drunk so that i can buy a family to abuse and frighten and keep awake until dawn. it would be like a toolbooth with a person sitting there ready to sell me a weary family unit all ready for my rants about religion and whatever grad student i want to bounce on my dick. why doesn't someone get on that shit? you know, i'm out tonight, drinking with these people, and i'm thinking how funny it would be if every female in the place was sitting on my fucking face. i really wasn't thinking that. i just want to give these new people something to read if they stumble across this page. is this wrong? then i don't want to be right! about everyone sitting on my face i mean. see, earlier, i stopped it this bar between classes (when i was sober) and this waitress started talking all about it being her first day and how she's just started school at Pitt and blah blah blah. and then she noticed this huge stack of papers half in my hamburger and said, "wow, what's that?" and i said it was my short story and she said, "did you write all that?!" pointing at the huge stack of papers, and i said "no, this is 7 copies of the same story, that's why the stack is so big" see, i'm cutting her slack at this point because she's real cute. and she's like "wow." so i say, "do you read a lot?" knowing the answer before she opens her mouth. and, of course, she says, "no." and, to me, it sounds like she just said the words, "no, i don't like to wipe my ass much." so fuck her. tired of these cute dumb fucks. no more of that. too much shit to do these days. that's the new rule: if you don't read then stay the fuck away from me. that's all there is to it. and one more thing, if you're a cop, you make me laugh because i just drove Mach 3 through residential neighborhoods drunk off my fucking ass and you never pulled me over. what do i have to do to get your attention? that cop at the four-way stop about 15 minutes ago? dude, you didn't think there was anything suspicious about the asshole singing Neil Diamond at the top of his lungs and taking that sharp turn on two wheels? weren't you thinking it was weird that i was slowly putting on some gloves and a motocycle helmet like i was preparing to race you? get your fucking head out of you ass. it's probably best though. if some cop did pull me over and gave me a drunk test, i would do everything precisely as he'd want (because the best drunk (driver) in history must also be the best drunk tester) then i would write "i was drunk, shithead" somewhere in the back seat of his car when he was handing by my license and apologizing for the inconveniece. later i'd send him a videotape of my microwave coughing up black smoke behind me (nope, you can't make popcorn when you're fucking drunk!) here's the thing, officer. i got like 8 drunk uncles, so it's hereditary that i can drive so well while intoxicated. that's why, even though it took two hours to drive 30 miles, i still drive like Steve McQueen in fucking "Bullitt." i may be lost, but i can still drive dammit! so fuck you. it's for your own good though. i think that i could probably take a cops gun away from him and smack him in the head with it. i mean, what's his training again? they aren't fucking ninjas. just some asshole with a gun. just like i said about that guy in the band. take away his guitar, what do you got? just some asshole. officer, i will take your gun from you and put it upside your head. you would deserve it for not stopping me from driving home after like 14 beers and 4 shots of Tequila. keep our roads safe, goddamnit. i must now eat everything in my apartment. hold on. okay. i am now out of food. cookies and pickles are the best 4:00 am combo in history. i'm happy to be a part of that discovery. i'm like those British fuckers from "Mountains of the Moon" except instead of finding the source of the Nile, i combined chocolate and pickles to make the greatest snack ever. one more thing, officer: what's it like sucking cock behind a Burger King billboard while i drive by drunk out of my fucking mind? didn't that radar come back reading "90 mph, Drunk as Fuck!" in bright red digital letters? jesus fucking christ. who do i have to blow in this shit town to get pulled over? here's a tip you rent-a-fucks: if you're at a red light and the guy next to you quickly puts his seatbelt on, cracks his knuckles, tries to start the song "Sweet Caroline" over again three times (even though it's on the radio) just to sing the intro once more while staring intensely into your eyes like one of those acoustic guitar crooners that annoy people at parties...he's fucking drunk. i'm just trying to help you here. and please taser my ass because, if my heart doesn't explode, i think it would be funny to make Godzilla noises and stomp toward the cop in slow motion while he frantically squeezed the button on his stun gun. i'd pick up a toy train and throw it back down, just like the song said. wait, that was bus, right? i'll go get the cd right now. i need more food. hold on.

::: david - 3:43 AM [+] :::
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