Some people say I’m a borderline alcoholic like it’s a bad thing.
For those people, who are actually either just in denial about their own alcoholic dependencies or are just super dull, fuck off.
For the rest, you’ll understand. The only way I got through this week, for a solid example, is because I drank the following yesterday: 1 x pina colada penis enlarger, 1 x triple vodka and coke, 1 x bottle of wine, shared mind you, with Third Roommate.
Peas: I’ve just been on [whisper] the West Rand..
3RM: Fuck. I'm coming over to pick you up. I’ll just put the phone down before my ear falls off. Why you shouting? Have you been smoking mandrax in Roodepoort or something?
Me: Not as such. Had a good cocktail though. He he. Geddit? Cocktail.
3RM: Right. I’m putting the phone down now.
How to get through a shitty day: (It’s easy.)
The boss hands you a bulldozer-full of work to do before you’ve even had your morning coffee? Self-inebriate.
You haven’t seen your new boyfriend in days and he pops in while you're dressed in a sack? Self-inebriate.
Some of your mates have fallen off the Earth because they’re shagging or have other stuff they’re doing that’s more important? Self-inebriate.
You drive to the West Rand from the East Rand in traffic, taking you 70 minutes? Self-inebriate.
Your windows don’t work, and you’re budgeting to buy new ones, so you leave the aircon off and broil yourself in your own schvitziness? Self-inebriate.
You can’t blame your very short-temper on PMS, you’re actually just a bitch? Self-inebriate.
Feel ugly, incompetent, stupid, fat? Self-inebriate.
SARS informs you that you owe them R2 654? Self-inebriate and tell them to go fuck themselves.
Feel like you cannot take another day of day-in-day-out monotony? Self-inebriate.
Sick of pleasing everyone? Self-inebriate (and tell them to fuck off).
It’s simple. Drove into the bevvie-serving establishment on the West Rand (the purpose for going here was important and worthy, nevertheless), and ordered a triple vodka and coke. That’s what traffic with no windows does to an alcoholic.
If people tell you that drinking through your shit only makes it worse, they’re actually talking a load of jean pant. It’s always helped me. Granted I only get pissed once a week these days, which is just a whole load of stone-washed jean pant in itself. So lay off. Life is pretty darn good, sure, I am happy, I am seeing everyone tonight for E's birthday (happy happy dollface!), and my boyfriend is cooking me dinner.
But sometimes, sometimes, you just have a shit day.