Sunday, 1 January 2012

Bottoms up

Currently in a state of "Fuck everything. Fuck you, fuck the world, fuck Wellington, fuck everything.". If I were 13 and if this was 2006 I would totally have a greasy fringe over my eye and Simple Plan playing on repeat. But I'm 20 and this is 2012, so I'm just gonna lock myself up in my room for a while til I feel like I can leave without murdering someone.
And here's something I wrote ages ago and forgot to post:

- Hey.
- Hey.
- What are you doing?
- Spending some quality time with my friend Jack Daniels.
- It’s 2 in the afternoon, dude.
- So?
- So… That’s not very good.
- Not everything in life is.
- Very poetic. What happened?
- Pissed some people off. Having a bad day. Took the first drink to forget, and when it didn’t work I thought I might as well go ahead and have the next twenty four.
- Why are you doing this?
- I believe the technical term is “self-medication”.
- Don’t go all cynical on me. It’s not cute.
- Not cute. Ha. Good one.
- Stop being a jerk. We can talk about why you’re having your liver pay for your mistakes or you can go ahead and start planning your schedule around your soon-to-come A.A. meetings.
- I heard they serve pretty good snacks.
- Oh Rick. You’re a riot. Now, seriously, what happened?
- I told you. Pissed people off. The wrong people. And now I don’t have a job, I can’t pay rent and my life is pretty much over. But hey, on the bright side, I’ve thought of quite a few witty things to write on my signs when I start begging on the street.
- Just look for another job.
- Please. You know how long it took me to get that one. If I start looking now I might be able to find something around 2034.
- So you’re just gonna spend all the little money you have left on booze and then go sit at some street corner asking people for money so you can buy more booze, is that it?
- Well, not entirely. I might turn some tricks too.
- Fuck it then. Drink your misery away. Call me tomorrow if you don’t end up drowning on your vomit.
- Will do. Although, having my very own Jimi Hendrix moment is starting to sound pretty good right now.
- I know what you’re doing by the way.
- Really? And what am I doing?
- Crying for help and masking it with sarcasm so not to look weak while doing it. Really Rick, I expected more from you.
- Yeah well, you don’t seem to be doing a particularly terrific job of helping me, now are you?
- Excuse me for not wanting to be abused. You want help, sober up and ask for it.
- Well darling, we both know I’m not gonna sober up for a while. Tell you what: why don’t we start working on levelling the playing field and you sit down and have a drink with me?
- Seriously?
- C’mon. Jack here is quite the charming companion after you get to know him.
- And when does that happen?
- Around the fifth shot. Come, drink. Let’s celebrate the end of my happiness. We can mourn the death of all my ambitions tomorrow over a jug of water and a few aspirins.
- Fine. But don’t ever say I’m not a supportive friend.
- I would never say that, honey.
- You pretty much did 30 seconds ago.
- Did I? Well, maybe it’s starting to work and I’m finally forgetting. Now, bottoms up!

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