Yeah Ill admit it, I had to name myself in the friends section because I was tired of the computer screen mocking me. Did a little more biking yesterday and my lungs felt kinda peachy, though my legs arent really up for it yet as Im still feeling a little of the winter hibernation sickness. I Still want a cigarette every second of the day, maybe I should just trade addictions, but which will it be smack, chritianity or porn?
Ive been force feeding my insomnia with packets or caffeine and cocaine, hoping to pull through to the other side of this loopy daydream. The bags under my eyes have grown to such a degree that they would have threatened to move if they didnt have such a sweet, below market, stabilized deal on my face. Its been a cool and angry spring in the city, and that night was already full of jackknife winds and hairpin moods. By midnight our merry group of six had prematurely spewed too much of the evenings pent up energy soby one we were down to just three chemically addled contestants..
Without the wonderous haze and sweet smell of tobacco, the bars in New York have begun to stink only of desperation, desire and dank B.O. none of which seemed all that inviting at this point of a pretty pointless evening. I tired to keep myself occupied by mocking the clothes or affectations of the hipster clientele, but even riffs on mesh back hats, fauxhawks and pageboy cuts had their own sell by dates. By one thirty, Danny boys eyes had already begun their forward migration to the back of his head, which would eventually hit the kill switch in his brain transforming the formerly semi-comatose tippler into an automaton somehow able to traverse largely unscathed through the nights myriad obstacles to his apartment with relative ease. Were I in similar shape it would probably take me the better part of an hour to get home from around the block, and more likely than not with the aid of a car service. If I didnt get out of there soon I would be left alone to accompany Dee, in reality Darcy, but so named in honor of the Dee Schnideresque gaggle of badly bleached curls that framed her otherwise attractive face, in another night of morally detached debauchery. If I could only finish my beer and disappear into the night before theBlackout hit.
But theres nothing like waking up with crust in your eyes and what feels like a dead rat in your mouth to make you feel alive. Sunday was fun and filled with surefire hangover cures like greasy food, pop and bad TV.
Ive been force feeding my insomnia with packets or caffeine and cocaine, hoping to pull through to the other side of this loopy daydream. The bags under my eyes have grown to such a degree that they would have threatened to move if they didnt have such a sweet, below market, stabilized deal on my face. Its been a cool and angry spring in the city, and that night was already full of jackknife winds and hairpin moods. By midnight our merry group of six had prematurely spewed too much of the evenings pent up energy soby one we were down to just three chemically addled contestants..
Without the wonderous haze and sweet smell of tobacco, the bars in New York have begun to stink only of desperation, desire and dank B.O. none of which seemed all that inviting at this point of a pretty pointless evening. I tired to keep myself occupied by mocking the clothes or affectations of the hipster clientele, but even riffs on mesh back hats, fauxhawks and pageboy cuts had their own sell by dates. By one thirty, Danny boys eyes had already begun their forward migration to the back of his head, which would eventually hit the kill switch in his brain transforming the formerly semi-comatose tippler into an automaton somehow able to traverse largely unscathed through the nights myriad obstacles to his apartment with relative ease. Were I in similar shape it would probably take me the better part of an hour to get home from around the block, and more likely than not with the aid of a car service. If I didnt get out of there soon I would be left alone to accompany Dee, in reality Darcy, but so named in honor of the Dee Schnideresque gaggle of badly bleached curls that framed her otherwise attractive face, in another night of morally detached debauchery. If I could only finish my beer and disappear into the night before theBlackout hit.
But theres nothing like waking up with crust in your eyes and what feels like a dead rat in your mouth to make you feel alive. Sunday was fun and filled with surefire hangover cures like greasy food, pop and bad TV.
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Looks like you've made a friend
K