8 Days A Week
The beer festival was truly epic. The basic setup; cordon off a grassy section in the middle of an outdoor downtown mall type area, setup booths that dispense free beer and drunken hilarity ensues in the beautiful Arizona sun. Your ticket price gets you entrance to the extravaganza, a handful of promotional type items and single shot glass for your beer drinking needs. At first glance, the shot glass concept seems ludicrous; shot glasses are for downing potent liquors, not for swigging beer and with a 4 hour time limit on the festivities, doubtful thoughts of actually getting intoxicated at such a rate spread like wildfires through our entourage. These thoughts dissipated in a bevy of bodacious brews, as the first booth that appears like an oasis before us was the Newcastle Brewing Company. I nearly bypassed this booth completely, not wanting to drown my palate on a beer I drink all the time, until I glanced the number of beers that you could sample; 9, not including the honey brown beer I normally chose as my number one. After sipping, sampling, swigging and finally shooting all nine samples, we rounded several booths dedicated to companies and services that DIDN�T serve beer (wtf?) and our minds reeled before us.
I couldn�t even count the number of booths dispensing all matters of brew and after our trek into madness began, I never did find the Skullsplitter booth (14.9% per volume) I so desperately sought. Regardless, 45 minutes after our triumphant entrance I had personally downed 34 different two ounce shots of beer. Our entire group was slightly bleary eyed, basking in the sun and cheeks were red all around from the growing warmth of inebriated joy. AS THE PICTURES FROM MY PREVIOUS ENTRY WILL SHOW YOU, THINGS ONLY GOT DRUNKER FROM THERE!
And if one story of getting drunk on a Saturday and humping until I could hump no more isn�t enough for you, then you should have seen me sing Karaoke and get smashed for the second time that day on only fifteen dollars cash money. And to be fair, I didn�t so much sing, as rapped out a very rousing version of House of Pains �Jump Around� that would have brought down the house had it not been mostly populated by shit kickers and people my parents age; karaoke bars suck.
Sunday night, I had a lot of time on my hands and I spent nearly the entire day alone with myself. I paused long enough to rescue the new and improved �x� when her car died; taking time out of my day to go jump her and fix her car too. I obliged her as our current arrangement dictates; railing her like the amateur porn star she has become and then decided to take the scenic route back home to clear my head so to speak. This left me with too much time to think�
From Monday through Sunday last week, I got laid every day. Friday and Saturday I achieved true man-whore status. Friday the x came over and chilled and we messed around a bit, ending in a nice little oral copulation session in my favorite numbered position; 69. She made an immediate exit upon the arrival of my friend Gaius Cassius, prompting an outburst of pouting and whining on his part. I had no sooner exited the shower, when the cellular device went crazy and I was forced (I use forced very loosely) to entertain the stripper and her out of town friend. Even Cassius�s interdictions couldn�t help me try and fend off these two succubae and in the end I was so spent, I passed out while they lounged eating 24 hour obtained burritos. I awoke early the next day to the newest roommates guffaws of laughter; lipstick written regards on the mirror yet again. Saturday, the one that is short coaxed three more �O-faces� out of me, but fell short (pun intended) of drawing out a fourth and gave up in a fit of frustration.
The demands for time placed on me by the one that is short and the �x�, not to mention occasional appearances by the stripper leave me very little time to socially interact. And even when I do slip out to the drinking dens, coffee houses and random locales that I so love to frequent in my desert oasis, as of late, I have had one of these females in tow. Internet dating is a joke and I am sticking to my guns and not fishing in the company pond; is it a good thing for me not to meet someone new right now and simply stick to having my carnal and cuddling needs met whenever the urges strike me? Someone new requires a lot more effort than I could probably give right now and being able to give up that sort of time requires me to cut loose one or more of my current fuck buddy�s. But even the ones that I have are still not without problems�
The one that is short has been dropping hints about boyfriend/girlfriend talk, which I squashed by pointing out to her once again that we have nothing in common and her ideal man is someone who has a number of my personality and sexual qualities, but none of my interests or physical match. I also dropped the hammer on her and honestly stated that I don�t trust her, which is a key factor in starting and maintaining any sort of serious type relationship. The stripper constantly badgers me for more time that I really don�t want to give her, as she has nothing going for her other than the whole �I�m a stripper!� thing. And the �x� continues to blossom into the woman I have always wanted her to be, which I refuse to dwell on.
If my social transgressions weren�t enough�
I need a new job.
New glasses are a must.
My car needs some repair work.
And despite my best efforts, I can�t ever seem to buck the habit of perpetually doing laundry.
What I need more than anything is a vacation away from my life, where I just hang out and be mellow and chill with a really hot tattooed chick whom parties with rock stars and just lets me bath in the glow of being the coolest and hottest chick in her particular neck of the woods.
At least I got one thing going for me, dearest of diaries, cuz I SO know a chick like that.
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