“I hope your deer wife finds you dead and dies of a broken heart and I hope your deer children starve to death, you broke my mirror, you faggot cunt nigger deer.” – Louis Ck.
Wish I had a subtle way like Boone to insinuate that I am drunk without having to obviously announce it.
Beer count: 10
Makes a much better first impression than “I’m fucking drunk.”After all my years of adolescent blogging, I have absolutely no idea how I could contribute anything of worth to this. What to possibly write about. Every droll observation I have ever conjured up has been written down somewhere else. I have nothing left to say. I’m old news, out of gas.
Washed up. Kaput. The well is dry. The jig? Up.
The music? Faced.
Being full of beer and running on little to no sleep doesn’t help in trying to get a second literary wind. I feel like I’m practically huffing paint fumes, because I have yet to finish painting my room white because I live in the dark as shit basement. Don’t get me wrong, I love the whole upstate house thing, but if I had to be surrounded by dark red walls with no windows for any longer I was surely going to hang myself. I live in the absolute forest now compared to the next to queens suburbia I am used to. Today for instance, I hit a deer. Really. I did. A fucking baby deer. I was driving to my boss’ house the next town over, and I was whipping around a corner blasting that “I wanna fuck you like an animal” NIN song and next thing I know a deer jumps out of nowhere in front of my car. That whole “deer in headlights” thing is bullshit by the way, cause here I was thinking, fuck, it’s gunna do that thing, but it saw me, freaked out and practically leapt out of the way immediately. Unfortunately for Bambi, it’s attempted escape was no match for my Oldsmobile Cutlass and crack! goes a leg. Maybe a rib or two. I yelled just about every curse word I knew and stopped, of course, but nothing could be done; there it went, doing a sensational ollie over a tree and dragging itself into the woods until I assume it took a nice rest in a patch of grass somewhere.. After that it seemed like every fucking forest creature was attacking my car on the drive home. Rabbits, chipmunks, you name it; it’s like they knew a deer was chilling by my car and they wanted to see what’s up.
You know those little bloody furry piles of mess you see on the side of the street sometimes and your heart drops a little? I’m responsible for at least 3 of those today. Anyway, as I said, I have nothing to say.