two days for hunter

[Axanderdeath]

Two days for Hunter, kind of.



I feel sick today, and this beer is not going to help. I don’t really care about help though. I guzzle a beer down and look at the TV. I like to drink my self stupid by myself and watch TV. I like political shows; they are particularly good to get drunk to. I end up yelling at the screen. “Does anyone really believe this phony fuck?” My arms in a questioning position, my hand lovingly grasping my beer, and perhaps the other hand on my cock.

This is not a good time for my Girl friend to show up, but for some reason she always does at that moment and breaks up with me, and then I have to work to get her back, and that sucks. She asks me why I do it. I tell her it is in protest to the world, which is more a lie than true. She knows this. I get hell for it.

My sweaty ass on the dirty bed. Beer bottles all around me. The smell of stale cigarettes, \and what comes on but deaths of celebrities today, the women that played gigit, some one else, and Hunter s. Thompson. Well I have to buy a beer to that, even though it is my girlfriend’s birth day. I was supposed to go over to her place and watch a movie but her mom said no, and hunter died today! Hell I got to drink.

I get a beer and it taste good. But hunter was excessive, I have to be too, but I have no money. In Montréal it is easy to swipe a bottle of wine from any super market. I do this. I drink and walk along the street stop and talk to the homeless kids out in the cold, I offer my wine to them, they refuse. I talk to them about how they can be “non-conformist” and not sleep on the street, and they tell me that they want to go to sleep. I steal another bottle, and go in to a bar and get people to buy me beer for about 2 hours the bar tenders buy me booze I am the life of the party. The next morning I am too hung over to go to work. I cure that with a stolen bottle of beer. I can’t remember too much else. I wake up in the hospital. I get back to my shity hotel room and lay in bed, and my girl friend comes by and yells at me for not talking to her for two days. She sees the bottles and is pissed. I blamed it all on hunter, but it was not his fault.

[jimboloco]

well you can paint scenes with the best of them, for my stupid opinion.
the images come thru really clearly,
boing boing booing
i need a shot of liquer,liquor, gin and coffee
or maybe i'll do a shot of vodka. man!
a toast in honor of your story!

tough young dude you are.

it must be fucking cold, man.