Screw the real world, pour me a beer

With all the drama of this year’s election, the rising price of oil, the seemingly endless war against terror and the ever increasing threat of getting cancer from global warming and shit, there is always one thing in my life that remains constant; an unending, never wavering, emotional blanket of comfort that is always there for me, Booze.
It’s not just me. Alcohol is universal. It brings people together. It defies all language and cultural barriers and provides common ground for us to stand on. All that, AND it gets me drunk!
If there was ever a time when I didn’t go out at least twice a week, I don’t remember it. Lately, I’ve been going to the bar all but one or two nights a week, my primary reason being to grab a bite to eat. Reason is what fool’s search for, and I’m no fool brother, so to hell with reason, pour me a drink, I’ll stick around.
If I had a dollar for every beer I drank in the past week, well, then I would have drank a lot more because that would make the beer practically free. Unfortunately no major brewery, beer distributor or even bar has offered to sponsor me yet. I’m not sure why. I feel like it would be a great investment.
Last Saturday I ended up in Athens. FYI, it’s not possible to stop there for just dinner. We stopped into some pub early on to grab a beer and before we even started to look for a place to eat, we had pretty much made up our minds to make it a night. After burning my mouth on late night pizza and sleeping in the passenger seat of a convertible all night and on the way home, I spent Sunday recovering and getting ready for finals all week. Finals. What a depressing thought. I couldn’t handle the stress and I needed to crawl back under my emotional blanket.
By Tuesday I was three days into a two day binge. The effects of alcohol aren’t as apparent when you don’t stop drinking. In an effort to prove this, I decided to not stop drinking. Unfortunately, there are just certain times when it’s not practical to be drunk for an entire week. Fortunately, I don’t have enough good sense to know when these times are and even if I did, I probably would have disregarded it and done it anyhow. Considering I spend as much money in the jukebox as I do on beer some nights, I figure I’m self moderating pretty well. As it turns out I just spend entirely too much on the jukebox. Some say I have a problem with it.
By Friday I was done with school and it was first Friday so I decided to get sloppy and wander around downtown.
Having been on a steady diet of greasy bar food all week I decided to change things up and get some greasy Chinese food before heading out. It was pretty busy around town and I met up with Joe Tuff and five of his college girlfriends. Girlfriends like girls say when they’re talking about each other though, like the show Girlfriends. Everything takes longer when there are five girls in tow. Not just putting on make-up and getting ready, but simple things like ordering drinks, crossing the street, and, well breathing I assume, I mean everything. After hanging out at the bird for a bit we rolled out to see what else was going on downtown. We ended up spending some time at the Rookery and then Envy. At what seemed like 4am but was in fact only midnight, we ended up at Oasis, plowing through a variety of food greasy enough to power a diesel engine.
Somehow Saturday I woke up before noon with the strange ambition to clean my apartment. So I went to waffle house to grab breakfast. Eventually I began to clean up my place and to reward myself; it was back to the bar for a beer. Things ended up getting a little crazy. I think I ended up in every bar within walking distance for at least a few minutes. I remember shots being taken, people falling down, walking all the way to 550, realizing I left my credit card at Envy, going home, going back to Envy to get my credit card and then stopping off for another beer on the way home. Look, I swear, I’m getting help for my jukebox problem this week.