LADEELEROY

2002-03-22

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12% BEER
DIARYLAND
 
Drinking Makes You Look Cool. Seriously.
 
  Man. I got really really really drunk last night. A beer drunk. Not my usual fine Jack Daniel's drunk that I am familiar with and can predict. Beer. Drunk.

I am a pretty good drinker. I'm 99.7% Irish and come from a long line of drinkers. Alcoholism is something that runs in the family. But so does cancer, so you know, what are you gonna do? Drink or sink. That's the way.

Anyway. I got drunk last night. It's been sometime since I've been this drunk. And it's probably the first time I've been actually drunk from drinking beer. Most likely it's because I didn't have a single thing in my stomach, save a couple of cashews and a stick of gum I accidenatlly swallowed. No, I don't have an eating disorder, I just didn't have time to get anything to eat. But I did have time to go drink. Let's not get into the specifics.

The drinking was in celebration of the opening night of the next production I'm doing. Yeah folks. One closed last weekend. The next one opened this weekend. I am an actron.

Well, 3 Ram Rods, 1 Boddington, and 1.5 Folley's ESB later, I'm sitting in the bathroom of the pub we're at, head leaning on the handicap bar for it's cool comfort, writing an e-mail to my boss in my head explaining why I would be coming in late to work in the morning. I never got past the greeting because my brain was sending signals to my fingers that they were not making the smokey smokey action and something needed to be done about that. I gracefully walked out of the bathroom. Bid fond adieu to my fellow cast mates, passed out hugs to those that were worthy of touching my body, while all the while repeating to myself, "Don't squeeze too hard. Please don't squeeze too hard. Stomach filled with fermented yeast. No squeeze hard." Went to my car and drove home.

Please. No giving me shit for driving while intoxicated. I was not Stumble McFallen. I was not Pukey McGee. I was just beer drunk. I could still operate my car. I could still drive safely. I was still able to light a cigarette while changing my radio stations while checking out my fiiiine haircut in the rearview mirror.

Okay.

I probably should not have been driving. I admit it. Please don't tell my Mom.

I get home. Instantly I walk over to the faucet and literally stick my mouth on the end to suck the water out of the ever giving source. When my stomach is suffciently water and beer logged, I force myself to eat a piece of bread.

For some reason, when I'm drunk I always think that eating bread will cure my drunkerdness. Because it's soft and doughy and absorbent. I could just eat a Brawny paper towel, but that would make me an official drunk.

I couldn't finish the piece of bread. I left the uneated bit sitting on top of the coffeetable and stripped down to the bare essentials to make my way to bed.

Oh, Lord. Laying down usually makes one feel good. Laying down usually signals the body to relax and sleep and enjoy a moment or tow of REM.

When you're drunk, laying down is one of the worst things to do. Why, you under-agers may ask?

THE SPINS.

Yes. The evil evil spins.

You can't close your eyes because the darkness will start spinning, which sounds odd, because how would you know that the darkness is spinning if you can't see anything? It's possible.

If you leave your eyes open, the walls will go back and forth. You'll try focusing on one corner of the wall, but that corner will sneekily start to creep over to the door frame, then to the carpet, then to the ceiling and then makes its way back to it's domicile.

And nothing works to stop the spins. Yeah, one foot hanging out of the bed and placed on the ground may sound like a good idea- but it only causes your stomach to be stretched out even more. Yeah, you can try to hypnotize yourself, but we all know that hypnotism is Satanic and, thus, does not work.

All you can do to stop the spins is sit up, eyes half opened and either laugh at yourself for being such a dumbass or cry because you know that you have to go to work tomorrow.

Sooner or later you'll either fall asleep or puke.

On occasion you'll do both at once.

Luckily, last night, I just fell into a deep sleep.

I will never, ever drink that much beer and smoke a half pack of American Spirits again.

Next time I'm sticking with the Camel Ultra Lights.

 
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Copyright 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004 L.Leroy