BOOZE: healing lives since the dawn of time

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To Lurch:
[29 Nov 2006|11:15pm]
Tried to send you an email tonight... It didn't work. Although I doubt if you will ever see this, please, call or email me. I have something for you. I miss you.

Straight from the library,

PS: To all others, I have kind of moved over to mind-erase (aka myspace. You can find me here. Or, go to myspace and search for "drunkenwriter." Yes, I am a defector!!!! Sorry, but I still love you guys!
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[ mood | depressed ]

Definition of Terms
[22 Aug 2006|02:30pm]

Definition of terms:

Ed. Note: The definitions for the following several terms have been
provided to the reader to serve as a mini-gazetteer which will aid them greatly
in understanding the ongoing battle between the Forces of Hopes and Dreams and
Bar-dom, a battle which (in spite of its obvious futility) is fought nightly.
As of yet, the Forces of Bar-dom have yet to be defeated.

Read more...Collapse )
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[ mood | busy ]

Freelance Copywriting
[10 Aug 2006|03:50pm]
Is, at once, the nightmare-inducing journey into total horror that I expected it to be, while also being rather rewarding work. I won't bore you with the details of the projects that I'm working on (as they are about as mind-numbingly dull as one would expect), but gutting it out here back on the bottom of the writing totem pole could be much worse.

Other than that, lots of hopelessness abounds. But what else is new?

Off to the bar...
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[06 Apr 2006|12:36am]
i live. a little. die a little. and let my poor heart... ha...
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[ mood | happy to see this page again... ]

Shit! Shit! Been a long time!!...
[01 Mar 2006|11:02pm]
I live. But I am still stuck on dial-up and both of my comps keep dying (for one reason or another) and money has been less than copious of late. As soon as everything gets sorted out (haha! YEAH, RIGHT!), I'll be back to posting on here again, but probably not for another couple of weeks.

Life: it's a lot like this.
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2006: One helluva year...
[03 Feb 2006|02:41am]
Already,the "happy new year's" are beginning to faid against the muted sobs of yet another battered woman known as "Your Bright Future In 2006"m like an escaped convict talking futily top God as the dogs hunt him down. I am trapped on dial-up now, and am waiting for word from a beautiful woman whose keys I should have stolen. Life is dismal and wrong.
        Long-and-short?: Nothing new to report here.
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[05 Jan 2006|01:02am]
I've made no plans for so long now that not making them has become them. Every time I try to build an idea, it seems that it gets smashed by one tragedy or another (and I'm thinking mostly of personal things here, not globally, although I think of them with a frequency that one would call 'insistent').
        The bottom line of it all is that, if i see a doctor tomorrow, they'll only tell me to stop drinking, something which I am not prepared to do. But, I will see the doctor. I will see what he says. It's been a long time of blood-vomit, and this seems to be the height, so, given the new year, we'll invite his ugly prognosis into my life.

        Full report to follow. Whether you like it or not.
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Good Omen
[04 Jan 2006|01:07am]
I'm no stranger to what I'm about to describe to you, but tonight was a new record for it, especially considering that I hadn't had anything to drink today.
        For the last several days, I've been in the grips of a somewhat severe depression; sleeping a lot, not getting the mail regularly, not practicing, etc. I've chalked it up to recent events and the fact that I've gone off my medication (which I'll be getting a refill of tomorrow). Regardless, tonight, I woke up after my now regular mid-evening nap (which has been getting longer each day since Christmas) and lay flat on my back, listening to the radio. I felt fine, very relaxed, at peace with the universe and everything. And then I knew that I was going to vomit.
        I'm very good at vomiting. To know oneself, especially in this instance, is truly to know God; much pain and hardship can be avoided simply through practicing, and I regard having gotten it down to a science one of my better special abilities.
        So I waited, and waited, and waited, laying there on my back, until I knew exactly how long I had before it was truly going to come. Then I walked calmly to my cold bathroom, assumed the position, and went at it with the clinical precision of a concert pianist. I hadn't had anything to eat since six, and I brought up liquid.
        Once again, let me remind you that I am no stranger to what I am about to tell you.
        By the third smooth heave, I knew I was bringing up blood. A lot of dark blood. I knew this because, while my efforts were productive, they were getting harder and more intense to produce.
        Finally, the last heave produced the gem: the largest blood clot I've ever brought up. Bright red, thick, and syrupy, it floated like a micro-galaxy in the newly-flushed toilet water. It was about the size of two Mickey's Big Mouth caps stacked on top of each other. I stared at it with a mixture of relief, pride, and abject horror.
        Fortunately for me, though, I no longer care about much, not since she left, not since the new year. Personally, I regard it as a good omen.
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For Auld Lange Syne... or however the fuck you spell it...
[01 Jan 2006|12:04am]
They told me you called the bar tonight. Even after your most recent email (which was obscene), I forgive you and let go of everything. For the callous cruelty, for the brutal resignation, for the insensitivity, and for being so distant and unreachable during the last weeks. Fuck it. It truly was wonderful before it all turned to shit.

After I send this email, I'll no longer have any way of contacting you; all emails will be deleted, and it will all be over (which, from the day before you left, seems to be what you wanted in the first place). Happy new year, kiddo.

I have one favor to ask of you: burn the book. Immediately.

As ever,
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[31 Dec 2005|11:48pm]
Have a happy and a healthy new year.

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Have a holly-jolly christmas...
[26 Dec 2005|03:32am]
You never called. If you had cared, you would have called. I tried to call several times, but I (mercifully) did an excellent job of erasing your number from my phonebooks. Beyond that, it's unfair to say "goodbye, sethifer" so easily and glibly when you dropped me like a sack of fucking hammers JUST DAYS AFTER YOU LEFT.

New Year's is my least favorite holiday (even hated more than Christmas). I made my new years plans with you, even relearned to play my favorite new year's song for you, and you dropped me via text message and stopped answering my calls. You have no right to your own righteous indignation.

Hey, kiddo: I'm never one to take the easy way out, or to dodge total blame wherever blame is due (remember the 4 grand I won?), but you, on the other hand, are a piece of work. I hope you remember, UNTIL THE DAY YOU DIE, what a mess you made of someone who had learned to never to trust another, then had the sad misfortune of trusting you. And now you blame me.

I would have called. But you obviously don't give a flying fuck. I wish I had burned the book.

The only guy who was never there for you when you needed someone or wanted anything and who never brought you flowers or a warm hat and gloves on a clod winter day,

(the forgotten) Seth

PS: ...
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[ mood | devastated ]

Christmas, Racial Slurs, and Other Fun Things
[24 Dec 2005|11:43pm]
1. My LJ now contains anonymous posts that include racial slurs. I refuse to delete them only because they paint a teling portrait of the person who posted them (at this point, I have no idea who the fuck is whom, and, from the beginning, had only best guesses as to who was saying what). Now that I no longer care, everything is better.

2. Feliz navidad.

4 (e). I received a most unexpected phone call last night from my Dead Girlfriend (make no mistake: my Dead Girlfriend will always refer to my Dead Girlfriend and NOT my Ex-Girlfriend - aka April Rose, the evil, vile, unforgivable slut-whore who broke my heart as if I were an unwanted circus trinket). She rang around midnight and we talked until 7 in the morning. It was everything one could hope from someone the day before Christmas Eve. Should auld acquaintance be forgot and all that... I wonder if there still might be a chance for us.

5 (a). I got to watch the end of "It's A Wonderful Life" tonight, my favorite Christmas movie. This on top of having gone to mass, fam Christmas, dinner, AND managing to secure a fresh bottle of Black Velvet.

D. My Christmas Gift To The Children of the Internet:

The best free, downloadable games on the INternet that I am playing in Yuma this year:


"N" - OMFG THIS GAME IS THE SHIT. Nuff said? No? Ok: run, jump, wall-climb, flee, fury, anger, vertical, half-pipe, explode, violent. Excellent. 500 levels. Free. Very hard. YOU MUST DOWNLOAD THIS GAME RIGHT FUCKING NOW.

"DUO" - The best mindless waste of time since drinking alone while watching the USA network (which I am doing right now).

"Alien Arena" - Opensource FPS with old-school sensibilities (perfect weapon balance, etc.) and new-school graphics. Also works in a runtime environment stable enough for it to work well over my laptop and a hotel's net connection.
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Lucky Us
[22 Dec 2005|09:07pm]
Ok. So I may have an ex-girlfriend who tricked me into loving her before she broke my heart. And, yeah, I lost my job just in time for the holidays. And, of course, I'm completely broke just in time for Christmikah. Oh, and sure, I got more random wierdo fuckfaces commenting anonymously on my fucking LJ than a monkey has fleas (and none of them are very nice comments). AND I got fucked over for New Year's (my least favorite holiday in the world, second only to Christmas)... and my grandma isn't doing so well... and... Ok, so a lot of shit (Including being broke like a busted-ass hooker trying to bum a cigarette from a matchstick), BUT at least we're (and I mean "we're" as in, "hopefully, if you're reading this entry, then you are among this number") NOT in the hospital for Christmas.
          I have a friend whose brain is bleeding (not concussed, which is what makes it troubling to me), and she'll be spending the New Year in a hospital bed. I almost bailed on the family Christmas to go be with this person, but this will probably be the last family Christmas (all kinds of talk circulating about my grandma) and I know that I have to be there.
          And, simmering like an undercurrent of spiteful disappointment beneath all of this is the fact that I still miss my ex-girlfriend. I did well by her, though, and have managed to erase everything she ever gave and/or sent me, obliterating her phone number both physically and mentally. I feel terrible though, for going into the New Year/Christmas Season with vengeful (iutterly bitter, vengeful) thoughts/feelings in my heart. Bottom line? You know you're in a bad way about a chick you thought you knew when you toast to the following:

Me: Hey, Gary: do we know anyone in Portland?
Gary: No... oh... um... [pause of thinking]... Yeah! Yeah: we know [2 people whom we know].
Me: Ok. Well, they're acceptable losses. So, then, cheers! [Clink!] Cheers to bird flu hitting Portland first. [bloth take a swig] And cheers to my ex-girlfriend begging me to move in with me here. [More siwggage]. And cheers! Cheers to me telling her that she's fucked. [sad, angry swig].
Gary [as if to the air]: Yeah.
Me: Well, fuck it. At least I'm not bitter.

Lol. Well, I could go on for days. But I won't. Merry Christmikkah, everybody: be grateful and careful and take nothing for granted.

Peace on earth, goodwill toward man (and the chicks, too).
2 comments|post comment
[ mood | disappointed ]

"I hope you die."
[15 Dec 2005|01:30am]
Things have come to rather catastrophic resolutions between me and April, but, the bottom line of it all is that, regardless of all the madness, I've found myself wondering if we really could have been married. It's pointless to think about now that everything is broken and shattered, but I can't help it.
          Regardless, it was the worst resolution to any relationship I've ever been in (that I was lucky enough to have end in a resolution) but my heart still softly hums her name. Either that, or the bronchitis she had really was contagious (my lungs sound like a fucking accordion). She broke my heart, and, even though I know why (in the practical sense), I can't understand why people are not better to each other.
          Apart from that, I'm waiting (somewhat intensely) for death. Or booze. Not sure yet...
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oh no
[13 Dec 2005|02:53am]
Broke and angry for more reasons than I can fathom at once without smashing things.

Never trust anyone; they'll only break your heart and destroy you. Life is a hallway called high school and the corridor never ends. And it just gets uglier and uglier and uglier.
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Letting Go
[08 Dec 2005|04:53am]
Well, this was our last night together, and, all things considered, it could have gone a lot better. By the third time I woke up with her foot in my face as she tried to kick me out of her bed, I decided that it would be better if I just left. She wouldn't even wrap her arms around me in bed. I didn't wake her up, didn't kiss her goodbye, didn't do anything apart from get dressed and whisper "have a nice life, kiddo," before heading out into the icy black 4 am and back here to write about it. I figured that, if she was going to make me miserable, she might as well do it on my home turf, where the shittiness of the whole situation wouldn't be amplified by her presence. She leaves for Portland in 9 hours, and I won't see her again before she leaves.
          So then, (raises double shot of black velvet) so long to April Rose: a chapter in my life that will not soon be forgotten. Cheers.

Now then, back to bed for a few hours. Hopefully my dreams will be better than the reality.
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[ mood | groggy ]

You have got to be kidding me...
[02 Dec 2005|01:03am]
Ok. SO I fall in love with this girl, sacrifice almost two months (where I don't touch a fucking piano o except on Fridays at the frog), don't keep a normal sleep (because she works late afternoons), lose my job, have my car and windows smashed up (an expensive proposition), and all sorts of other shit happens.
          The important part is that, about a month ago, she tells me that she wants me to teach her to read music. I show her a blue manuscript notebook and tell her that, by the time she leaves for Portland, the notebook will contain a full course with all she'll need to know to get started. I do this. I do this well.
          And then, well, I get an idea.
          What's she going to do in Portland, able to read music, but surrounded by a bunch of guitar weilding hippy friends? I thnk.... The answer comes to me. Then, yesterday, I cashed my paycheck, and played $40 on keno. I hit for a little bit of money, and me mind was made up: later that afternoon, I went to Sam Ash and bought her a fucking keyboard (an ok one, too!!!).
          I wrap this present, something that she's wanted since she was a kid (a keyboard), in blush rose wrapping paper. I affix the bow. I lead her intpo the room several hours later. She is impressed, blown away, even. That was last night. Tonight is another story altogether.
          She leaves in 6 days. Tonight she won't return my phone calls. She's too busy to see me. It's like I don't even fucking exist.
          So (as much as I love her), fuck her; let her call me the next time she wants to see me. I'm not moving a GODDAMNED muscle. I've deleted her from my cell phone... this is the ugly time.
5 comments|post comment
[ mood | drunk, angry, brokenhearted, and alone ]

just for the fucking record
[19 Nov 2005|07:13am]
I have the best girlfriend in the world. She is super-hot, fun to be with (most of the time), funny, sweet, and (for reasons that I can't fathom) actually appears to enjoy my company.And that's not even the beginning of it. So there! (jabs Raperil in the eye before running away screaming in fear of the tickle war that will undoubtable ensue in retaliation for my actions).
5 comments|post comment
[ mood | very, very, profoundly gay ]

how many ways can I spell fuck you
[18 Nov 2005|05:32am]
my last column is on file. my laptop feels like a dead lead weight. I don't know what to do now. I have no direction. I have nothing. I am lost. And if I even start to think of all the different ways to spell "FUCK YOU", I grow even farther into the column of the lost. And the strings play out. This is my end.
1 comment|post comment

Mail From China
[16 Nov 2005|05:42am]
I got a piece of mail from China today. Have you ever gotten mail from China? BUSINESS MAIL from CHINA? Imagine how crazy the thought of mail (as we know it, a quick and efficient system of postal delivery far beyond what was even capable 100 years ago) would seem to a Brit in the mid 1800's. Then imagine what a great 17th century explorer would think of a mass business mailing from one side of the world to the other. AND with 4-COLOR-PROCESS TO BOOT! If that doesn't beat all, then I don't know what does... oh, wait... bird flu.

The fortunes of mankind are changing, kids; it ain't the American century anymore. (Our President is an astonishingly narrow-minded, over-zealous, idiotic lunatic... we are all doomed :-(
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[ mood | amazed!!!! FROM CHINA!!! ]

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