whiskeyfightpit

Maybe I believe the tree huggin' cats when they're spoutin' off about the global warming business. As a kid I remember being out on the beach all day and coming home with little or no sunburn. So I'm out yesterday around Put-In-Bay for maybe five hours in the sun...and my arms are completely burned. My arms are still hot to the touch. Oh well I ran through like two bottles of wine and a 12 pack of Michelob Light...like the deserts miss the rain, right-o? I should get back on the drug scene. There used to be much fun in and around the drug usage. What turned me off is the Eazy-E music video scenes one would have to go through to get the most innocent of pharmaceuticals. Everyone with black Ray Bans and flannel shirts all waiting to kick the shit out of someone. Never forget the colorful assortment of Tweekers, Junkies, burnouts, and Candy-Flippers just bouncing off the walls and always demanding your attention. That's probably why I gave up on everything except the booze. I don't wanna be making the scene when everything hits the fan and East Toledo becomes that inevitable re-make of DePalma's Scarface. Nothing like a small army of bloodthirtsty Colombians crawling out of your anal cavity to make you realize that your time might be better spent with Heineken. Still, Put-In-Bay was pretty fun. I can't bear things not to be interesting. All of these tourist corpses just milling about taking token pictures and wasting precious time. I can't handle that scene at all. How fucking dreadful...You mean to tell me a white businessman making over 200,000 clams a year can't cut it loose? What a fucking shame. Give me that much a year and I'll turn Put-In-Bay into a summer long Mardi-Gras. Maybe the revolution should start with us happy-go-lucky lower class citizens taking all of that trust fund money away from the rulers and just pitch a bitch. Pitch a Bitch is from an old Richard Pryor album meaning to throw a huge party. Seriously, they obviously are just sitting on the gold anyway and not enjoying it. I got in trouble for taking my golf cart down a private drive on the Bay. Fuck the islanders. If they don't like drunken tourists then they should move their square asses to Grosse Pointe or something. Stuffy rich people drive me crazy. When I'm drunk I like to take golf carts where they don't belong? Is that some inforgiveable sin? What has property become that fucking precious? Monied or Middle Class americans need to lose that property fetish because it's truly killing us all. Oh, and fuck golf too. These white middle age golfers get so fucking irate when you disrupt their strokes with questions like "My buddy here fucks guys and it'll only run you 30 clams" or "He's french and knows how to show an old queen a good time" I don't see what they need to get upset about. Someone needs to take all of their money away like a parent taking away a chid's toy when they misbehave.

Soundtrack of the Day GOGOGO Airheart "Love my Life, Hate My Friends" Aint it the truth though?