Hell no, I ain't happy!

Killer weekend this weekend. Veitch came up from Mobile, Andrew and Brandy came down from Gadsden. We had some drinks, watched Alabama barely beat Tennessee, got Andrew and Brandy's car out of the impound, and went to a killer house party. Some girl was actually so excited to be at said party, she parked her car on the train tracks (true story) and came to me for comfort as she panicked at the thought of a freight train destroying her car.

Needless to say, I didn't get any from train tracks girl. Instead, I ended up listening to Thin Lizzy with a couple of other friends. Crunk, but it's not getting me laid.

Which brings me to what may or may not be my main topic of discussion: my lack of getting any. Either that, or my blatant apathy at trying to get any. I was at said party, the police showed up, people left, and some girl offered to do things to me for a Red Stripe tall boy. I have her the tall boy, tried to hold her to her end of the bargain (not forcefully, that's rape and rape is wrong), and she scurried away with one of my tall boys. My abilities at convincing people to do anything are lacking. I couldn't sell soap and water to that dirty kid from the Charlie Brown comics (not that he would buy it. That kid was always fucking nasty.)

And this isn't the first time. Let's not forget the time that I went home with someone 11 years older than me and she started doing coke and passed out before I could even consider possibly contracting herpes. Or what about the time I went home with the girl that decided doing pills would be more fun than doing me. Really, this is starting to be a problem.

Meh, fuck it. If porn could make me breakfast, I'd never go to a bar or party again. (OFFICIALLY THE VERY FIRST PORN JOKE OF THE ASSWIPE CHRONICLES! YAY!)

I was at work Friday night and hit a girl with my car. Not her car, but her. She walked behind me as I was backing up and ran over to my window and asked if I was okay. She weighed all of 100 pounds. Of course I was okay. I asked if she was, she said yes, said it was her fault, and wished me a pleasant evening of sandwich delivery.

Speaking of work, I found out today that people from the corporate office are in town and if we don't greet people when they walk in and tell them goodbye or something along those lines as they leave, we'll get fired. Crunk, huh?

Halloween is Saturday. This year's will be documented. Last year, I made a pretty kick ass Unknown Hinson costume and didn't have a single photo of it. Not one. I even did the sideburns (but not the teeth stuff. I almost puked as I put on.) This year, after much debate and much more apathy, I've decided to go as ARTIE! THE STRONGEST MAN IN THE WORLD! Of course, I'll be bearded Artie. I'm not shaving again until April.

Good chance I'll be slobbering somewhere, probably passed out

I worked all weekend. Saturday, I went to work at 5pm and didn't get off work until around 4:30 in the morning. Eleven and a half hours. I made $140 in tips but just kept wanting to leave and go get drunk. Fuck, when I finally got off work, someone gave me a beer and I was so tired I couldn't even drink it.

I can already tell you that this post is going to be even more pointless than the rest of them. By you, I mean the zero people that read this. I'm just drunk and feel like rambling.

Fuck man, when I was working that eleven and a half Saturday, I was making a delivery and some cocksucker side swiped my car and sped off. I hope you die cocksucker. Speaking of fucked up cars, my car started smoking at work today. I know, right? It was only made in 2001. Eight years old is too young to start smoking. It has a pretty gnarly oil leak though, and that shit started burning on the engine block. As I was checking it out, I burned my hand on the engine and the asshole in the "my dick is so small I have to drive a giant truck to compensate" truck next to my started laughing. Asshole.

For the most part, this whole thing is about people that I hate for temporarily giving me a hard time.

I have to write a paper this week. Five to seven pages on a female anarchist revolutionary in 19th century tsarist Russia. I've spent the last few hours in the bowels of the Gorgas Library. Vera Figner is becoming more and more of an intriguing person to me. She married so she could move to Zurich, Switzerland and study medicine and along the way became a revolutionary who helped in the 1881 assassination of Tsar Alexander II, was arrested, and spent 25 years in prison. Interesting shit. The only time I walked away from the book was to get a cup of coffee, and post this piece of literary ejaculation on the Blogspot.

I was rambling through the library and found a goldmine of things that I would have shit myself for in high school. Books about the Soviet Union, books by Bakunin and Emma Goldman. Books by anarchists and socialists and communists and radicals and revolutionaries. I'm getting a chub just thinking about it.

The coffee shop in the library has organic, un-dyed, pure cane sugar with molasses. It's made my coffee taste much better. It's also Hawaiian sugar, so I'm doing good things for America.

Okay, I should probably stop rambling now and get back to the memoirs of Ms. Figner. I want to go in the the direction of her early education, radicalization, struggles with her upbringing as a member of the gentry against her new socialist and revolutionary ideals, eventual revolutionary work in Odessa and St. Petersburg and elsewhere, her involvement in the assassination of Alexander II, and eventual time in the clink. Here's to hoping that this saves my grade in Imperial Russian history.

Until next time, Cheers!

$2 drink specials make you strong

Welcome back to my mindless rambling. I don't really have anything to go on about. I'm just bored and avoiding what I should be doing. And by that, I mean reading this novel for my Russian History class. Oh Nikolai Gogol, you silly bastard.

Last week was fall break, which I feel was brilliantly timed. The University calls it a "study break", but it's the week AFTER midterms. I made good use of it though. Good use of course being spending all of the money that I had getting drunk. Okay, not every night. I did work a good bit. I voluntarily went to the Houndstooth last Wednesday night. $3 pitchers will do that to a man, or an asswipe for that matter. Thursday entailed working. A hangover, and working. Friday was more working. I got out of my closing shift and spent that evening in Birmingham and had what I thought was a really funny encounter with a waitress at a bar in Birmingham. Saturday, I bought some new records in Birmingham. I got the singles for the Kinks' "You Really Got Me" and "Lola" and a record that teaches you how to play along with the best of the Kingston Trio. The latter was free. After that, I managed to get lost in Jefferson County for about 45 minutes (don't ask), got a slight hard-on when I passed a train station in Bessemer (America's 9th most violent city!), slept until 7pm, and got drunk and watched football. I love going to Egan's and being the only person there that doesn't work there. Sunday was hungover for most of the day, and then working. Work kinda sucked when the T-Mobile network decided to be efficient and not work. Monday was the most fun. I worked, read, got drunk, and gave the last $20 that I had to an indie pop band from Louisiana.

More on the indie pop band. I don't even really like indie pop. It's funny what happens when you get drunk and a band has an attractive female member that not only has a sweet voice, but she also plays guitar, ukelele, percussion, and a mean damn tambourine. And she could move. Not like drunk girl at a party dance or like all the strippers that I've ever paid to entertain me. She was graceful and smooth and had a flow. That's probably why I liked them. Okay, it IS why I liked them, and gave them my last $20 so they could make it to the next show. They actually weren't bad though. I'll put a video up at the end of this tripe.

Fortunately, tomorrow is payday. I can pay my water and power bills and maybe have a couple of drinks (AFTER I finish being a good student and read the rest of Gogol's Dead Souls.)

Speaking of new music, a guy that I work with gave me the latest Frank Turner album. He just signed to Epitaph Records (the best band to sign to Epitaph in a LONG time. Really, Epitaph has gone to hell.) It's really good. The songs are really good and he sings like he's English (You know what I'm getting at, how guys like Eric Clapton sound American when they sing.)

I got a little panicky Sunday night at work because the T-Mobile network was down and I thought that my phone was cut off again. Let's just hope it doesn't get that far again. I think I've got it figured out though. I got the first "past due" text this morning. I'll get about 5 more and then they start calling and saying "Hey, this is T-Mobile, pay your goddamn phone bill!" Then, without fail, my phone will be cut off at an inconvenient time, like when I'm delivering to a dorm (to some dickhead or dumb cunt that probably won't tip) and I have to call them to come get their sandwich. Yeah, that's when it will happen.

Oh yeah, someone ordered Jimmy John's last week and had a cookie delivered. A cookie. One goddamn cookie. I delivered it, and got a $2 tip. Granted, the cookie was $2 (which makes the tip 100%), that's just goddamn lazy. Fuck you guy.

I just adjusted myself I think the girl next to me assumed that I'm playing with myself. No ma'am. That comes behind the locked privacy of my own apartment door. Unless the pest control guy shows up at 9am while I'm sleeping off a hangover, starts banging on my door, and somehow has a key and let's himself into my place. Fuck you pest control guy. I need my hangover sleep. And there's no way in hell I'm getting up with an erection and letting you into my place just to spray for bugs.

Well, that paragraph just sent this post downhill really quick. I guess I'm gonna call it a night with that. Maybe, if someone actually reads this thing, I'll do it again REAL soon.

Yeah, and monkeys might fly out of my butt.

And now, here's Givers (the indie pop band with the pretty girl singer).