whiskeyfightpit

Clear Lake Michigan is all I aspire for these days. I don't want to be back in fucking Oregon, OH. I quite enjoy not seeing large groups of people and being out by a lake surrounded by nature. I'm debating whether or not to ask the people who own the cottage if I can stay there. Everything about this weekend was positive. Just standing on the porch and seeing only the lake and a dirt drive was as simple and pleasurable as anything could ever be. Naturally, I stayed drunk the entire time. My goal was to baffle the locals with my bizarre but polite behaviour. All was well until I tried taking my beers into the carryout to drink while I did some shopping. The clerk wasn't too pleased with my open Michelobs, but he let it slide. I wonder how my hearts doing these days. It should be in pretty bad shape because I drank a case of Red Bull Energy Drink. I refuse to believe all of those bullshit urban legends about people dying from drinking too much Red Bull. When I ran out of Jagermeister to put into my Red Bull, I just used whatever random alcohol was laying around. It was cheap tequila for awhile, but that pleasure cruise soon ran aground. Next up was our good friend Captain Morgan. Mr. Fucking Nautical does NOT approve of being dipped in Red Bull like some baby shoes in the bronze. Fuck it, I didn't puke and all of the other poor drunks who were sauced enough to join me, did.

My new nickname is Scrap Iron. I will accept nothing less. All night, every night, and definetley more than you.

I figure I could find some seasonal landscaping work up there and just make enough to drink Boone's Farm or Wild Irish Rose whenever I please. The simple drunkards life is what I crave. And If I never see another civilized face again, it will be too fucking soon. The bad vibes and malaise set right back in as soon as I drove down my home street. Every nagging thought of work and ridiculous people bounced back and forth through my skull like a game of nude twister on a capsising pontoon boat. No communication. I want none whatsoever. I just want beers and a fucking shack to hide in. I just need that peace of mind that was given to me up there.

SOUNDTRACK OF THE DAY
Acid Mothers Temple ABSOLUTELY FREAK OUT, ZAP YOUR MIND!!!

Two naked girls embracing on the cover and a full on lava spill of fucking psych-out hi-fi brain damage. THEY'RE A FUCKING JAPANESE NOISE CULT AND I WANNA SIGN UP....RIGHT FUCKING NOW!!! BRING ON THE DELAY PEDALS AND BROKEN FUCKING TUBE AMPS. SQUEAL LIKE A PIG!