ALL STAR PUB POST THREAD

[greygoose]

cue The Good, The Bad and The Ugly, by the Hugo Montenegro Orchestra...

As expected, the hamburger train dropped me off at Hangover Station around 8:24 AM CST. "Tuck n' roll, mofo!" yelled the conductor as he shoved my ass out the door with his foot. And now here I am alone in the wastelands, drinking shower beer and brushing the dust off my lapels, trailing a potent musk of Scotch through the desolate air of morning.

Today is indeed a hangover day. I embrace it.

[Barca]

This isn't a place where people like to hear someone prattle on. The quiet drunks generally get annoyed to the point of biting sarcasm if you are like a girl in a bar who tries to repeatedly get up and dance on the bar where their drinks are.

It sounds like you wanted to be liked by your Internet friends. Don't worry about it, we're honestly not worth the effort. But that doesn't seem to be your conclusion. So some general pointers:

-Being an asshole is funny if you are Toxi, not if you anyone else on this board
-Being a boozahologist and finding awesome stories and artifacts like Martini Time is great, because it validates our lifestyle
-Giving advice is cool if you are Zen like Oggar
-Posts about things that happened in a bar are a million times more interesting that what you did at home. We all know what drinking at home is like, let us live vicariously through your bar experience.
-Attention whoring is good if people would pay attention to you in the analog world like DPAW
-Being a boozahol scientitian like Badfellow is great, because it allows us to learn while we laugh
-Being incoherent is pretty decent, like BlueBottle. I laugh at least once a week af F. Scott Blitzgerald's "I feel like I'm typing downhill" quote in Steve2112's sig
-Being around for a few years is usually enough to count for something. It makes you like the guy in the bar with one hand; everybody wants to know about you because you obviously have a good story or two.

Until you figure out why you are special and have something to share, wait for the last one. That doesn't mean don't post, that means know thyself.

[greygoose]

On glassware....yes, it is important.

I use a small glass, 2-1/4" in diameter, not quite 4" tall.
It is a good quality of glass, without blemishes,
and a small glassblower logo on the bottom.
It is old, without distortion or scratches.

3 shots of Bourbon leaves an inch of free space to the rim.
Rolled around, the liquid grows legs on the inside surface,
and at room temperature, the addition of a small ice cube
puts on a magical show.

Held to the light, tendrils of melted water flow down from the surface,
streaming patterns of liquid in solution yet apart,
like smoke rising in reverse, randomly finding it's way earthward,
gravity and viscocity and density freed from simple physics.

It is beautiful, spiritual, a demonstration of nature and art,
of human science, ingenuity and the struggle of thousands
through the ages, forgotten ancestors who bequithed a treasure
to be enjoyed by me alone, in silence.

[greygoose]

Wisdom for you lightweights...

It only happened to me once. I always keep a stash of emergency booze.

Usually its cheap Gin, Wine, or Vodka. Something I don't want on a regular basis, but its always there.

Me too. I've always got at least a 5th, usually a handle, of some sort of bottom shelf whiskey sitting around. Once I crack that open I make sure and get another back up on my next run.

[greygoose]

I put the lime in the coconut, i drank them both up.

Breaking coconuts open is a pain in the ass. Seriously. Anyway, it's unseasonably warm here and i saw coconuts at the grocery store and that song got stuck in my head. Hopefully it's now stuck in yours.

[greygoose]

...Fortunately my boss seems to have a hangover, too. We rarely drink together, but we can see on each other if one of us had a long night. It's kind of a Fight Club thing.

[greygoose]

Crass? Yes. All-star? Definitely.

Time to start fucking the gal that works at the liquor store.

[greygoose]

As some of you know I was wrongly sentanced to a good ol dose of AA indoctrination.
the scary thing is that they have ways of making you undrunk (especially in a small town like mine!)
I thought I should make this post as a survivor of this system which makes people lose their identity
step one: make you feel like shit and renounce booze: they do this by taking you aside and forcing you to liste to how bad things can get, if you havent done something Particuarly bad that they have they name it a "yet" and say its inevitable if you dont give up demon drink eg : "so you havent got drunk and killed your family......yet" this puts the newly sentanced (and really withdrwn straight out of a cell "member of the fellowship" in a spin and reduces him to gullibility
step 2: take up all your spare time: they do this by suggesting many meetings each week, sometimes organising lifts and hassling you on the phone untill you submit!
many more steps including harrasment, damnation and swearing fealty to a god which may or may not exist
They had me, they lost me, Im back.......but hell its a hard place to escape once youve been put there (I.......................I Malkor king of the white ciders! was put here and they had me!)
Never give in Never show weakness
DRUNKARD FOR LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[greygoose]

At Agaveman's suggestion, I'm adding this post by coqui_chris.

I think that what distresses me so much about this thread is that when I first found this website three years ago, I felt that I had finally stumbled upon a congregation of kindred spirits, whose heavy drinking had stigmatized and ostracizied them to a degree from normal polite well-adjusted society just as mine had.

And then I wake up one day three years later and come onto my beloved board, and people are saying things like "Well, its ok to drink, but only after you go a job where you sit at a computer and have a briefcase and a daily planner and successfully complete your teleconference for the day, then check on your mutual funds and make some online trades, then pay the mortgage and property taxes on the house that you own and make your car payments and pay for your cellphone bill and then meet with your estate's attorney and then pick your kids up from school and take them to their travel-team's soccer practice and then take them to CCD that night and then pick them up from there and take the whole family out to dinner at Applebee's, well then its finally ok to buy yourself a Big Brewtus glass, you earned it!, but only one, 'cuz you have to drive home ..."


I mean, you do what you gotta do in this world, and if that's how you do, then you've carved out a pretty commendable niche for yourself, I'd have to say. But I haven't done that, and it doesn't seem as if my life's ever going to come together like that.

Is it the result of heavy drinking? I'd say that's only a manifestation of many other disfunctional personality traits inherent to me, as well as alot of "maladjusted" world views, you might say. I certainly wouldn't say that. Hence why I have yet to -- nor, I think, ever will --- "correct myself."

Our buddy came over last night. In recent months his drinking problems, among other consumption problems, have caused him to become more of a liability than an asset at the pizza shop where a bunch of our buddies work and I still moonlight, and eventually he walked out in a manic episode. Anyways, last night he saw me sipping on a Natty Boh and requested one, saying he'd heard so much about and wanted to try it and I offered him one. He liked it alot. Then our other friend called him up and he was like "Shit, I've got a little money, I'll go out to the bar." Then he was explaining to my roommate how once he starts drinking, he's gotta keep going. He was saying how he's even delved into his parents' cooking wine before.

And then my roommate asked that the most ignorant, grating, demeaning question of them all: "Then why are you even drinking?"

Why? Why can my roommate afford 3-ft. bongs and zips of headies when he owes me $500 for cable bills and rent money. Me, who works two jobs, and whose fulltime gig was put into serious jeopardy about a month or so ago when, after a Sunday night marathon when I went to three o-clock in the morning drinking the Cheap Canadian Whiskey straight out the plastic handle, I passed out so heavily that I couldn't be aroused by not one but two alarm clocks.

See, its all relative.

My mom asks me all the time why I like to drink so much. I ask her how come she likes to go to Mass so much.

And I don't plan on stopping until the cancer. Shit, if passing out drunk on the EL during rush-hour and riding it for two-hours back and forth from end to end before I woke up and realized where I was and that I was really late getting home to my parents house, and coming home to find them teary-eyed and distraught can't teach me ...


Fuck it. Work got cancelled today. If I can't get hours at my second-job at the pizza shop, or if I can't find some sidework to do elsewhere, then just see how early I get crackin.

The bold part is my favorite.

[&]

When our leader is so inspired to tie one on in such fashion, shouldn't we take up the call and sally forth like a band of rabid viking pirates?

[greygoose]

Next time, stay at the bar, just give yourself a hearty punch in the nuts.

and being aware of the protocols involved in sneaking into this girls house in the middle of the night, it only took a sixpack of amstel and a spliff to come up with my genius plan......

climb over roof of my house at 3am...... bump start dirtbike out of earshot of house..... ride to exes place...... stash bike..... Watch "mate" climb 8 foot wall enclosing house....... wait 10 minutes.......

THEN: leave bike idling, climb on wall, assemble arsenal....(all bought from the corner shop earlier; 2 green smoke bombs, 2 reams of firecrackers, one airrifle brought from home). throw smoke bombs into garden (beauty of this being that smoke couldnt dissipate due to the walls).... fire airrifle pellet through lounge window, light and toss firecrackers into garden, jump down, hop on bike, retreat to earlier established vantage point.....

oh yeah, and call the cops from payphone just before it all took place

watching my "mate" go running into the arms of the Dubai police butt naked being chased by an irate father with a german shepherd was theraputic..... then i fired another airrifle pellet into his arse for good measure and took off on the bike.......

[greygoose]

bluespook wrote:

I have enough of my own problems, I don't need to sit in and listen to a bunch of whining bitches drone on about theirs. Never forget, these people are failures. They couldn't handle the hooch so they don't think anyone else can either. They blame the booze for their own shortcomings as men and women. It's easier to blame an inanimate object than to look in the mirror and place the blame squarely where it belongs. Never give in and never give up. This is what separates a good drunk from one of those 12 steppers. I'll take a motivated drunkard to hang out with or employ over one of these pity me types any day of the week.

[greygoose]

Today, I drink.

Not because I have to... not even because I want to. I drink because I enjoy it immensely. It's one of those little "freedoms" I enjoy, as an American; denied to most of our detractors. I drink today because after putting in an honest week's work for an honest week's pay, I wanted to unwind and allow the stress and pressure that is artificially put on, simply slide off like a heavy cloak from my back. I clanked the ice into my rocks glass and thought about how simple and enjoyable simply living here can be. I poured the gin without the fear of backlash from some fanatical nogoodniks. No one is going to bomb my place, no one is going to kill my daughters for liking the wrong boy or wearing a skirt that showed too much leg. I sliced a lime and squeezed its essence into my cup safe in the knowledge that unlike many of my veteran brothers and sisters, I won't be going hungry and I won't be left wanting. As I filled the glass to its lip with tonic, I felt comfortable without owning a Ferrari, without having a mansion on a hill, without living in an Ivory Tower, without toiling away in a cotton field, without scraping and struggling. As I raised my newly birthed drink to my lips, I delighted in the fact that despite all of the "troubles" and "worries" in the world, I was enjoying God's nectar a Free Man.
Free to live, free to die, free to be born and born again, free to explode, free to collapse in on myself... free to exist without making so much as a wave, and free to rock every single boat in the pond. I'm free to post whatever I want, whenever I want on the internet without risk of some secret state gestapo coming to bust down my door and haul me away to some Gulag on the Yangtze. I drink today because I'm unfettered, unencumbered... I'm free to hoist this delicious glass of gin with its infusion of tonic water and throw my head back in laughter! At what? At nothing! Free to laugh and enjoy my life; free from the shackles and the bindings of the Nanny-Staters.

I drink, because today my friends, I'm free.

[greygoose]

Years ago, I was dating a girl. Out of nowhere, she hit me with the "you drink too much" spiel. I asked her what I was doing when we met. She replied "drinking a beer and smoking a cigarette". I then inquired why she thought that would change.

Within a week, we were no longer dating.

And I now have a bride who enjoys her daily ration of wine and/or tequila. Proof that the right person's out there.

[greygoose]

The Rooster in rare form.....

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