Saturday, March 13, 2004

a busy, drunk bee.

my hobbies are valid. they are good, wholesome hobbies. i create things. i don't watch much t.v. i totally enrich my life and the lives of those i touch.


with the exception of the running thing, most of these hobbies can be enjoyed with a simultaneous consumption of alcohol. this is no good when you're in the middle of band practice and everything starts sounding, like, really wicked. even that discordant shit someone just played. and the cats yowling in the background are laughing with you, not at you.

ten miller lites later, someone is expressing the desire to smoke the hippie lettuce and watch 'fear and loathing in las vegas'. with the sound off. and that signifies it's time to go home. band practice is over. though, getting toasted, nicely toasted, isn't over.

then you wake up the next 'morning' and it's 2 in the afternoon. you're brain feels like a gigantic cotton ball and you have a shitload of things to do. as the day goes by, the formerly innocuous cotton ball brain turns into the gently, but gently, pulsating hangover brain. and then you eat grape-nuts. and then it is all, fucking, over.


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