Twenty-Eight Days & A ‘Wake Up’

How many people have I hurt?

How many lives have I dragged down into the muck and mire with mine?

How many loving wives and good women have I cast away?

Got a Super-Duper Calculator?

You’ll need it.

Life Imitating My ‘Art.’

Hits a little too close to My Home:

Street Cred For Vid: welovesandrabullock

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Some say beauty is just skin deep
Most of the time, this is true
But not with Sandra
She is beauty
Through and through

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My fervent wish is that I had not cast away all the good people who offered a shoulder for me to lean on…

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Trust Me.

It Works.

Just Deploy A Little Imagination.

Credit: CCR

DUH

Windows Are Not Impediments in My World:

Merely Distractions.

How did I get so drunk so fast?

I only had sixteen glasses of wine in twelve minutes!

Scuze for a moment.

Bill Gates is on CNN.

I have to remove a shoe, so that I might puke into it.

BRB!

OK.

I tried and tried and I tried!

To get through this CNN interview with

Bill Gates.

Could not take any more!

Picked up my TV and threw it out the window.

(It, the window, was not open)

It is open now…

I hear sirens in the distance.

Growing louder, and louder!

Ooops!

“And you can’t find your waitress with a Geiger Counter.”

Been there.

Too many times…

The computer has been Drinking.

Not me!

Vid Credit: MasterBiblicalMemory

Genius!

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I only Drop This In Because I like It!

This Would Not Be A Proper TT&H Post W/O Some Joni!

(And I Love Joni!)

Y’all Know That!

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PISS OFF

Some bitch neighbor (not Timothy—who has not hit me up for a free beer in over a week—“Thank you, Tim”, by the way: I am NOT drinking for two), came pounding on my door.

“Why do you flush the toilet so much?”

Apparently she can hear that toilet flush through the wall and it disturbs her fucking concentration.

“I flush so much because I piss so much. Now fuck off and get outta my face before I am tempted to fucking choke you to death. But for your benefit, from now on I will piss in the fucking sink. Because I RESPECT MY FUCKING NEIGHBORS ”

She ran away.

Screaming.

Fucking Coward.

Pretty sure there will be repercussions for my rude behavior and I will be forced to pay for my sins.

Guess how many fucks I give.

No Warning Sign

Well, I just awoke from my coma.

Thought I was good to go.

But had to go:

Take a Piss.

Did that. 

Mission accomplished.

And then while trying to ‘navigate’ to my computer chair, fell flat on my ass, busting my head on something unforgiving while on my downward journey.

And it fucking HURT.

(I survived)

“Watch out for that gravity storm! It don’t give no warning sign.”

Hotel California. Uh, I mean Hotel Indigo: LaSheeka

One night she got pissed off (she had a hair-trigger—I loved her for that)

“Why don’t you just get a fucking job?!”

(Screamed at some pan-handler at Hotel Indigo late one night.)

I just walked away, but said to her, “Baby, calm down.”

She replied, “These idiots just piss me off.”

Had to concur.

LaSheeka and I worked Night Shift at Hotel Indigo for probably at least a year.

We became instant ‘Fast Friends.”

Instant Karma.

We ‘understood’ one another and neither one of us ever put up with bullshit.

Because neither one of us gave a fuck.

We just did our respective jobs.

And LaSheeka was never hesitant to tell a drunken refugee “Guest” from Beale Street that he/she was full of shit and needed to just go the fuck to bed. And STFU!

We spent many long nights swapping tales.

I told my stories.

She told hers.

We BONDED.

I MISS HER.

Titty Bars and the YMCA–San Diego

Back in the day (1986-7) when I was on the USS Callaghan DDG 994 and had more than a day of liberty (and before I had a vehicle)

I would ride the bus to downtown San Dog and hang out in the titty bars.

There was an old YMCA close by–The kind of YMCA that still provided rooms for miscreants – mostly sailors, drunks, homeless, and gay folks.

When I had gotten too drunk in the titty bar and did not want to attempt to make it back to my rack on the Callaghan, I would crash at the Y.

I did NOT care that most of the ‘clientele’ were gay. I just wanted a place to crash. And I did.

Loved that YMCA. It was like something out of a more kinder past.

Nostalgia.