:Chloroform in Print
I want to go to the top of a really tall building, take a leak, finish, zip up, and then have my pee hit the ground. I want my entire pee to be airborne. Man I love beer.
Monday, August 08, 2005
 
Hitting the Reset button
I've never understood teetotalers. I suppose they've never understood me, either. But it seems like they're missing out on something.

You learn a lot of truths about life that are otherwise hidden when you go on a bender. Granted, many of these fall squarely in the "DON'T do THAT again" category, but still. I think it was William Shatner who said, pausing melodramatically between each word, "You never know what is enough unless you know what is more than enough." OK, I made that up - the Shatner reference, not the quote. It was really William Blake, one of those people derided as an eccentric crackpot during his lifetime but recognized as a visionary genius once the Authori-tays realized he was now dead and unable to directly corrupt the impressionable. He also said a great deal more on the same general subject, including "The fool who persists in his folly will become wise," "Those who restrain their desires, do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained," and "The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom," amongst others. Basically, he was Hunter S. Thompson a century before his time. Or something like that.

All I know is that from time to time, due to the inevitable pressures of life and all its modern complexity, I start getting muddled in the head. Things start blurring together and it becomes difficult to think clearly. Basic day-to-day stuff I'm fine with, especially since most of this is just routine and habit, but the big, navigating-your-way-through-life questions and decisions get increasingly difficult. I start feeling confused and often as not depressed, like a monkey trapped in a cage with my tail cut off for disobedience, taking joy only in flinging feces at my handlers, and drooling (which never stops being entertaining). At this point a bender is advisable.

Now, I'm not talking about having a couple of extra beers on a Friday night, or huffing an extra couple bong-loads, or taking a couple of those pain pills you managed to save after your latest power tool mishap. No, I mean recklessly disregarding all common sense and getting Fucking Plastered. If at any point during the process you think "man, I should stop or I'm really going to regret it tomorrow" you must consume additional drinks as fast as possible until the Responsible voices in your head start slurring and wandering down the sidewalk singing Irish drinking songs and looking for windows to break. If you are fond of the Weed and/or Pillz you can throw these into the mix as well, although Pillz and booze together can be a tricky lot unless you know your limits. (By limits, I mean knowing when to stop before you reach respiratory paralysis.)

The next day is going to be Hell, but paying for Your Sins is an essential part of the process. Your physical body has been severely poisoned and needs to recover. But that is all good. The high alcohol content of your blood has sterilized your insides, and kicked your natural healing processes into high gear. And once your brain is back in a functional state, you notice that it, too, has been sterilized. All the useless crap has been burned away by healing, sanitary alcohol.

Now, I'm sure the Tee Totalers out there have their own methods, like exercising extra hard or something similar. But, I ask you, who truly appreciates cleanliness - he who maintains it daily, or she who lets the dishes pile until they threaten to take over, then scours every nook and cranny of the entire kitchen 'til absolute order is restored? Who appreciates the miracle of walking better than one temporarily crippled? Who is dumb enough to listen to advice from me?

   
    
Comments:
Now I know why you call it Chloroform. Damn that was a long post.
 
I may be long-winded, I may be boring, and I might just be guilty of constructing long, overly complicated sentences and paragraphs that meander aimlessly toward a not-quite-worth-your-time point. But you can't accuse me of false advertising.
 
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I like brown liquor, strong beer, barbeque, and brunettes. Also, you suck.

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