nulla

Well, my curse has struck me again. Or whatever it is that you wanna call it…You see, I have a problem. Shit, again that’s an understatement. I’ve got plenty of problems. But at least I’m able to write this. At least you’re able to read this. So it ain’t all that bad, I suppose. Speaking of online dating in my last message to ya’ll, I blew a first date tonight. No, not in some gay kinda way. But blew as in, I didn’t even get the chance to make a damn fool outta myself. I pre-gamed too hard and far too early. A tell-tale sign of an alcoholic. A functioning one, so give me some credit, at least. I’ve developed a two glass system even. I drink one up while the other has a chance to settle the foam. I’m a big fan of IPA’s (as stated before). And since a local gas station chain right up the road has opened up their beer cave, converting from their soda cave, I couldn’t be happier. $8.49 for a chance to alter my state of mind, count me the fuck in. I only drink on the weekend anymore, so maybe I don’t fall under the categorization of alcoholic any longer. But, I still think like one, and I don’t know if there’s any getting rid of that, my friend.

Speaking of, how you been? Another sign of an alcoholic. I’ve been too wrapped up in my own god damn shit to notice. I apologize, just like I did to my date tonight. I told her I had a medical issue come up. And well, at least I wasn’t lying. It does seem to be a bit of an issue. One that always lands me back here. I mean, who else am I going to talk to at 11:50 PM on a Saturday night? I almost wrote down Friday night. Shit, I don’t even remember what I did last night. I reckon it was more of the same as what I’m about to get into tonight. That said, I’m a let you go, and get back to it.

Oh, and I just got back from that road trip I was telling you about. I’m not even quite sure how it’s going to be categorized at this point. The truth I’ve told so far hasn’t been believed. FAKE NEWS, they’ll call it! But I promise you, it’s not. It’s often said that truth is stranger than fiction, and my entire life up til now has proven this hand over fist. and time after time again. What I am sure of is that I did my very best Gonzo-journalistic approach to getting the story. You see, the story was already there. I’m just the messenger, so please, don’t fucking shoot me. Not like I’d even flinch…