Attempted Drunk Rumblings

So I sit here on the couch wondering when the alcohol is finally going to kick in and getting pissed off that what is going through my head isn't being translated properly through my fingers and into your faces.

I think that I need to get a hold of Michelle Bachman to see if she can hook me up with whatever wicked crap she partakes of on a daily basis. If I ever believed in parallel realities (which I don't until I reach the reflective and contemplative stage of inebriation but even then I wonder...) she would be a prime candidate for testing out this theory. She is one strange bird and I wouldn't be surprised if an alien head popped out of her sternum on the senate floor and proceeded to go around selling flowers by means of a sock puppet one of these days. I would buy a bunch, but nobody pays attention to me. I have cash in hand and everything.

As I'm sitting in my living room drinking a beer I am struck by the similarity that I bare to the picture of the monkey drinking a bottle of vodka that I have hanging on my living room wall. There is nothing better than a drunk monkey with the exception of a drunk zombie monkey as my brother once envisioned, so aside from being a zombie myself, I am thinking that I must be pretty cool to emulate a cultural icon. Even if it is only in my own mind.

Wednesday night again and I'm on to Ghost Hunters on SciFi. I figure it's a solid three to four hours of me trying to scare myself to the point of pooping before I decide to go to bed and shiver under the covers like a three year old. That show kicks ass.

In the mean time, I am waiting for my hot wings to cool off so I can continue down my chosen path of obesity. I am adding to this a 12 pack of cold beer. Wheelchair here I come. This is no laughing matter, I have often thought that I would end up in like manner before I was 30 and I have less than a year to find out if this cruel little trick that is embedded in my brain will play out or not. It was either that or finally finding true love, getting married, and my wife would die in childbirth and I would be stuck with a daughter that looked exactly like her to haunt me for the rest of my days. But mostly I'm a happy person.

I grow tired of this, you may leave me now.