I have to hold back what it is I feel for you. Why it is I feel this way, fuck you, I don’t know.
Manly Man’s Workout
Doing sit ups on an incline bench whilst intently flexing your sphincter so a turd doesn’t fly out.
Sometimes I want to do drugs, not to escape, not to deal, but to view differently what is I am doing. For instance, right now I could go for a fat spliff and a few shots, then continue writing my document questions. I like writing in different states, I enjoy reading the product when I return, it’s always fun, that’s all. Do not worry concerned, parental, overbearing people, I do not avidly partake in what you refer to as “getting fucked up.” It is an occasional venture I merely pursue in order to gain, like I said, a different outlook, that’s all. I stay grounded. Also, I like waffles, anyone else?
Fill up your sleeves.
Procrastination is deteriorating my sanity.
Dawdling, like cheesecake, is something that’ll always be circulating throughout my system.
Put your raincoat on if you’re going to get wet.
First of all, it must be night in order to properly execute what it is I’m going to propose to you. Ok, find a song you connect with, gets the thoughts rolling, throws you into a reverie, ultimately a song you like. Yank the volume, stroll down the sidewalk and fixate on an object of some sort, i.e., light fixture, door, tree, etc. After you have found your point, close your eyes and imagine it. Walk towards your object for as long as you dare.
Was at a friend’s this past weekend. Twas four of us, Joe, Sam, Meg, and yours truly. I’ll give you the lay of the land prior to discussing further, so you understand why it is I chose to title this piece THERAPY. Ok, so Joe and Sam are “together,” it’s high school people, quotations are required for not a soul knows what the fuck it is going on. Anyways, upon arriving at Joe’s place it was evident him and his significant other were not on the same page. The two of them continuously delving into vocal arguments and whatnot. As the night progressed every single one of their little fits were remedied by me. Why? I don’t know. Pretty much they would work one another up until one of ’em would turn to me and say something along the lines of “hey, why is he/she doing blah blah, what is the solution to this dilemma?” Me, not wanting to be a complete asshole, would give them an answer that would patch the quandary for a markedly brief time. As the time between their lil’ brawls decreased, their knowledge of me being a pacifier increased. Finally, whilst leaning drunkenly on my trustworthy friend, Wall, I noticed Joe and Sam entering their most heated argument of the night. As a result of their “knowledge” they, I kid you not, turned to me simultaneously and said “Evyn, fix it.” A various mix of emotions drove me to say “listennn,… I am not your therapist.” I laughed for I thought it was rather appropriate and comical, they were mildly amused. Then, since I did not employ my skills, I guess, the argument escalated further, which drove me to intervene. “Hey! Hey! I have the perfect solution to this problem! First, everyone take a deep breath, you included Meg, we’re all one big happy family. Now, lets do some role play in order to resolve our problems.” I was the only one who laughed. I vacated Wall’s soothing, dependable arms for nothing. Even when I’m not in my prime it is difficult to mingle with friends.
Friday, November 22.
The game originated last summer on my boat at Fire Island. It starts out slow but gets heavy rather quickly, ’tis where the motto “IT GETS DANGEROUS,” which is printed on top of our rule book, stemmed from.
Liquor, preferably a multifarious bunch of booze.
No obligations the following day, none whatsoever.
Free House or what have you.
Men and Women.
All of the following rules do not apply until a player has made a single revolution around the board and successfully taken down a shot.
Go = 1 shot.
Jail = 2 shots, 4 to get out.
Any form of tax (ex: income tax) = 2 shots
House = 2 shots.
Hotel = 3 shots.
Community Chest = A shot of everything. If there is only a single bottle 2 shots must be consumed.
If a player rolls doubles three times = everyone, excluding the one who rolled, must take down 2 shots.
Free Parking = Everyone, despite whoever landed on F.P., 1 shot.
Land on someone else’s property = shot.
Quit= 7 shots.
Dice must land on the board, if not a re-roll is in order.
Implied and enumerated powers may be dished out accordingly whilst in game session. Furthermore, you may interpret the aforementioned as you wish.
Anyways, last Friday my friends and I decided our best move was to chill on my boat and play monopoly. Upon arriving at the boat I was shivering, so I speedily made my way into the cabin and turned the heat on. While doing so I noticed a large piece of fabric lying over the stairs. It was rather intriguing, Timberland prints placed wildly, assorted paints and other stains strewn about. An interesting piece to look at, for me at least. Anyhow, I cleaned the table, set up monopoly, distributed cups and orange juice evenly, put my Coronas in the fridge, gave everyone their $1,500. After the game commenced and those who where skeptical had been warned by the experienced that “IT GETS DANGEROUS” I pumped the tunes and enjoyed the night. It got out of hand. We started with 5, but by the time we made it halfway through the bottle only two of us were left. Him and I agreed we had an obligation to finish what we had started. Also, the first one to quit, puke, whimp out, etc.., would be forever known and addressed as a pussy. Everyone but us departed shortly after the numero uno that’s mentioned shortly. We pressed on, I remember a select few moments. Here they are in order, 1. throwing the ass of the bottle sky-high and taking down the remaining shots (this is the part where your’re supposed to exercise that wonderful mind of yours). 2. Standing on the swim platform disoriented, yet stable, looking at my friend (also on the platform) who was laying down hanging his head over puking. 3. Going down below. That’s all I remember from that night. On the other hand, 7:30AM is a different story.
I woke up on the boat in my bunk rather confused and amused. Here, in order, is what my confusion and amusement stemmed from. 1. The cloth that had been continuously stepped on throughout the night was wrapped around me. 2. There was someone else in the bed, also under the cloth. I immediately said “what the fuck?!” and shook whoever was lying next to me. It was my friend who had made the pledge with me. We had ourselves a laugh, cleaned up our mess, walked home still tipsy. His mom picked him up along the way and I rode home on my long board. Dealt with the parents, then made myself self a kick-ass breakfast. I slept until 2PM, then played football with the same fellows from the night prior. All in all it was an interesting 24 hours.
You may employ our rules.