Hence the drunken entry with even less attention to spelling and gramatical errors. Just when you think it can't get anyworse, we introduce to the mix...

DUH DUH DUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

Jegermeister.

A preaty foul tasting drink actually. Well foul to me since I can't stand the taste of black liqurice. Though I lived with that fact cause the taste only lingered for a few seconds and all thats left to do after that is wait tell your face turns numb, your tongue grows to emence proportions making speech all but impossible, and try and figure out why the world sways back and forth when you walk.

I have not gotten drunk in so long. In fact I can't even remember the last time I got drunk....

No wait, its coming back to me. I did a diary entry about it. A labor day bash if my memory serves me....which nine times out of ten it doesn't.

My god, its been quite awhile.

Now I have it out of my system, no booze for me for another year or so.

So what did I do after a cranked out a drunken diary entry, ending it with proffesing my love for all of you, even Sexybitch who I have no clue who she is.....oh fuck, please let it be a she.

Anyways....

After that, I completely shut down my computer and within five minutes I was on my bed passed the fuck out. I have not fallen that fast and hard into sleep in even a longer time then the last time I drank.

This is how it preaty much is layed out how it happened.

Turned off computer and lights as I stumble to the bathroom. Stand there in complete darkness cause like the dumb fuck drunk I was, I turned off all the lights BEFORE I took a piss.

Ok, so I wasn't THAT far gone, just been having problems with the lights in my bathroom. It seems the problem is that when I flick the light switch to "on", I apparently have to high of expectations for my lights.

So drunkingly I pissed in the dark....mentaly promising myself I will bleach the shit out of all possible exposed areas at a later date.

Stumbled into my bedroom and played a little game I like to call "how the fuck do I get out of these clothes?!" Which was quickly followed with anoter game after my pants balled up around my left ankle and just wouldn't let go. Well, not really a game, but more of psycho analysis of my pants. Seems they are to clingy and desperate for afection that the thought of being seperated from me for a night has pushed it into a manical desperation as it clasps onto my ankle like a old woman grabbing your wrist, blocking your path to the last piece of butter rum candy.

Seeing as I was in somewhat of a playfull mood, I decided that just laying calmly in my bed is just out of the quiestion. From the spot my pants finally let go of its death grip on me, I did a flying one and half twist in the air to land cushionly on my back. Or so I thought I was going to do it.

It turned more like me flying through the air to land on my face into the pillow. My lower body not catching a hint that my upper body had lost all forward momentum. So my legs keep moving forward and up behind me, trying to fold me like a acordion. Finally given that my body can only bend one way so far, my legs finally came crashing down on the bed with a mighty flop.

Its at that time, even through the haze of beer and Jegermeister, that it was a good thing I didn't get my wish of a naked lady in my bed. I'm preaty sure she would have laughed her cooter off at the sight of me buck naked doing a face first belly flop into my bed.

I may not have gotten any sweet sweet lovin that night, but at least I didn't look like a complete fool. I can only disapoint a woman once in my bedroom in a night before I start quiestioning my coolness levels.

Yeah, you heard me right. I did say I have coolness levels....I'm just so cool I can get away with it...heh.

The loud flop of my legs slapping on the bed was like a gun shot at the begining of a race, because within seconds of that I was passed the fuck out snoring so loudly you would think people in Australia would stop and quiestion, "what the fuck is that noise?"

What can I say, it turns out I have a deviated septum, which makes me snore like a mofo. I have been known with my snoring to make trees topple, deaf people cringe, and the dead rise from the grave only to tell me "SHUT THE FUCK UP ALREADY! I'm trying to rot in peace here!"

Oh yeah ladies, watch out cause I'm a hot comadity here. I'm making women swoon from here to Hoboken New Jersey.....yeah, and you just wait tell I get into an in depth analysis on my favorite video games and once again go on about my Kevin Smith obsession. Oh yeah ladies, I'm so hot you might as well stick a fork in me cause I'm done.

*big game show grin, exagerated wink, followed up by making a gun out of my thumb and index finger, clicking my tongue off the rough of my mouth as I pretned to shoot lurve bullets your way*

Makes note to all readers on the deep sarcasm of this whole "hot comadity" bit

No wait, let me change something there for a second. I don't snore, I'll just tell you all what my father used to say to me when I would call him on his snoring at night.

WORDS OF WISDOM FROM MY FATHER: I don't snore, and I have proof. I stayed up all night long once and I didn't hear a damn thing.

This coming from a man who blamed all his gas on the pink elephant under his chair that seemed to eat an emence amount of mexican food. And who you could tell his mood by how colorfull his language is and how emphasized and often that colorfull language came spewing out of his mouth.

Oh shit, time for a flashback antecdote how that I mentioned my father. It is how I come to find out my father had dentures.

I was about seven or eight years old, we where still living in the orginal house I was raised in. At that time the only people left living in that house was me and my father.

After a long, hard day, my father decided to take a little nap and wanted me to wake him when an important phone call came through.

So there I was left to my own devices, the television ALL to myself which was a rarity at that time of my life. Me with my favorite toons on while sipping Pepsi from a glass bottle.

If that doesn't date me I don't know what will....

After awhile the phone rang and my father was still fast asleep upstairs. So I run into the kitchen to the only phone in the house, and lo and behold its the phone call my father had been waiting for. Being the lazy little fucker I am, intead of running upstairs to wake him up, I just cup my hand over the reciever and yell out for him with every last bit of breath in my tiny ass, but still partially pink lungs.

As I'm waiting there for my father to groggily get up, I just happened to look back into the kitchen and sitting there on the table is this pink thing with all these little square pieces attatched to it. At first I had not a clue what those where, I was preaty far away and the closest I had every seen dentures was on those comercials where you see the old person dropping there's in a cup of water then dropping what looked like an alkha seltzer tablet into it.

Out of curiousty I moved closer and closer to the table, very caustious in fear of this foreign object on my kitchen table. Finally I get close enough that I can get a better look at them, then a little light clicked in my head.

Holy shit! Those are fake teeth!!

Thats when I hear my dad's voice call down from the top of the stairs, "tell her I'll be down in a minute." Only his voice had a unsual lisp to it. That lisp that just screams I got no damn teeth in my mouth.

That rocked my little seven *or eight* year old world, totally tripped my ass out. I just stood there with my eyes as wide as saucers, clutching onto that phone, the caller completely forgotten by me.

So when my father finally came down from the stairs, I did my best to hide my freaked out state from him, try and play it cool.

Being as I was only seven *or is it eight* that translates out to me starring at him like he is some kind of demon incarnate, tossing the phone at his feet then fleeing for safe haven.

After I point I finally got over the fact my dad wore falselys, but man did that ever mess with my world for awhile.

So I'm telling you all you potential parents out there. If you get false teeth, for god's sakes let them know in a better way you have dentures. Don't let them just stumble across them laying on the kitchen table and shit. Either you are going to mess with there head big time or you will find them running around the house chasing the family dog, trying to bite it in the ass with your fake teeth....

A thought I can't deny it ran through my head after I got over the shock of it all.

It's about time - Wednesday, Jul. 07, 2004
An Honor for Chrome - Friday, Feb. 20, 2004
A great loss - Monday, Oct. 20, 2003
a terrible announcement. - Tuesday, Sept. 09, 2003
Chrome speaks: - Friday, Sept. 05, 2003