Out Of Jack Daniels

...but, I've found a large bottle of some sort of chick wine - looks to be about a half gallon or so of Gossamer Bay White Zinfandel, which I understand is damned smooth when you puke it back up. And also, I think it's on some kind of "diet," or green list, or some goofy hippie bullshit, so we're still on for that, not to mention which the afore-mentioned smooth pukin' ought to cut the calorie count down pretty well.I'm writing these as they may be my last words and testament because I'm at this point between 1/4 and 1/2 down on this ginormous bottle, and just remembered I also took an unspecified wad of Ambien about a half-hour ago. Which, given the weird shit I've done on Ambien, may well be the reason I dug around looking for the bottled stuff in the first place, but still, it should be interesting. Probably a good thing I couldn't find whiskey after all. Maybe I'll sleep through the hangover.

It's all a very self-reinforcing, Sheehan/Lohan spiral, and like that. I got nothing to keep me company on this little project but my TV and this fucking computer, but I strongly feel what I need right in here is a wad of friends to sit around and tell old war stories and hold my head out of the bushes when I puke off the porch and laugh at me later over it, possibly posting Youtube video, and may even occasionally talk me into a friendly fuck if they're plumbed correctly. Or I'm drunk enough to assume they are, whichever. That Justin Boever-looking little putz who's been hanging around with Mongul and his crew kinda looks like Emma Watkins in the right light and he's been doing that little fruit wave thing my direction, so never say never. He's a club prospect - not sure why since he's dewey as a morning Daisy - which means he's always under test, but also always under protection, so I gotta get someone's permission to kick his ass if it comes up, so I'll probably just work on the bar girl instead.

Wait - new development brought on by the word "bargirl" - the Ambien is trying to tell me the wine has balanced me, and I should leather up, fire up the motorcycle, and go to Holly's biker bar (http://www.myspace.com/ridetotheborder) and do evil things, but that's a LONG way aways, miles away, and in another state which means I'd get killed or in jail trying to do it as I'm ripped to the tits, and have a better than even chance of getting a mudhole tromped into my ass in any event.

Fucking hamburgers there are totally worth it, though, and I'm freakin' starving, sitting here drooling onto my Ramones tshirt thinking about them. Another Ambien thing.

I'll get back to you on that one.

Bleedin' Jeezus on a stick, where'd all that wine go?

I'll be back in tick, I just gotta....uhmmm....yeah....

In Our Next Episode: Morning.