lolitasordid

Well friends, this is day six of 21-ness and my first day of sobriety in.... quite a while... its harder than I thought it would be. Having just recently learned, in depth, about the calories in alcohol a few days ago, I began an attempt to steer away from beer and wine, more specifically, bottles of wine and cases of beer, and stick to whiskey, which I have developed quite an affinity for. However, I just learned about this thing called a liver......

Anyway, because I'm avoiding the bottle on the fridge, let me update you on the uselessness of my past 48 sordid hours. Lets see, I woke up at some point yesterday, oh yes, and I went to work at 11 instead of 2:30 (last time I showed up a day early, at least its better than late or not at all right) after work I picked up my deviant friend who is a red-headed banshee of a hell cat alcoholic (we only seem to hang out when I need an "enabler" or someone to help me seduce unsuspecting neighbor boys...) and we drank whiskey on the porch, actually, I drank whiskey and she just let her ice melt, which is strange, I've never known her to pass up on booze, especially free booze... I didn't get drunk per-say, in fact I drove her down the street, but its a hard life and a hot sumer so I ended up passing out for hours. I'm pretty sure I showered yesterday morning but I can't remember. When I woke up, I found that I was out of tampons, and not having the money for tampons (i swear to God if men got a rag those fucking things would be subsidized, mother-fucking seven bucks a box) or gas for my car, I conceived of the brilliant idea to walk the three miles to Whole Foods and buy one of those sea sponge things because A. they are like a dollar and B. some feminazi this one time said something about using them inspead of Kotex to like bring down "The Man" or whatever. So off I went, wearing the first shirt on the top of my laundry bag (this is proof right here that girls are not only human but are on occasion equally if not more disgusting than guys... especially when their man, or the neighbor that they are pining over is away and they have no witnesses). It happens to be a fantastic t-shirt that I not only wore all all of a few weeks ago, but worked out in last week as well. It fucking stinks. In fact I'm wearing it right now and its totally rank, but the funny thing is, its not just rank, its a cesspool of pheromones, so in its stinkiness, its actually kinda nice smelling (at least I know I'm still alive). Case and point, in my total beastly state, I was catching the attention of Whole Food hippie-men right and left, and I know it wasn't because of my dark circles and puffy eyes. But I digress. In case you were wondering, the sea sponge thing was a total waste of money, so my solution: I haven't changed my underwear in like two days. I figure hey, I'm not really going anywhere, there's nobody around, I'm hardly bleeding and they're black... (at this point its kind of like an experiment in hygiene).

So since I slept all day yesterday, I was up all last night like a crack head cleaning my bathroom, and then around 3 or 4AM a helicopter started buzzing around and I got a sudden streak of paranoia and started having visions of V for Vendetta and became convinced that "The Man" was going to come knocking and find my Communist Manifesto and other rebel-writings and take me to Guantanemo or some shit, so then I started trying to pry the floor boards up because I got the great idea that I would stash my books under the floor. However, this also proved to be a bad idea. (If my neighbors think I'm coked out it would not surprise me, ironically however, I am not, and shudder to think how it would be if I were.) Shortly after this I passed out.

This morning I was awoken by a masculine knock on the door. You can always tell a girl's knock from a guy's. It was my friend and former lover of an ever so brief moment in time. Luckily, the boy can't smell, he was just born that way, I have no idea what the biology is behind it, because you guessed it, I answered the door in the T-shirt and panties in question. (The stench has however gotten worse since then...) After he said his piece and went on his way I passed back out until 2:30. (I apologize that this is an all tell and no show kinda story, luckily this is the internet and not college.) At some point I put on a pair of cut-offs and a clean shirt and walked across town on official business (no money you see, they haven't made me pink on this site yet...) Whilst sitting in the office I kept smelling something akin to kelp, like disgusting harbor water. It wasn't until walking my ass back across town that I realized every sweating pore on my body was omitting vile toxicity, something like rotting moonshine. (This was another factor in my decision not to drink today.) When stopping at the consignment store to hustle a few dollars I was overcome by a mixture of apathy and shame, trying to keep my unshaven reeking armpits away from the customers and also feeling a little proud of the unkempt chain-smoking foul rock-star-esque condition I had/have assumed.

Which leads me to here, now, waiting for LOST to quite buffering on surfthechannel.com so I can obsessively watch the new love of my life, the miracle of God's creation, Sawyer, do his bad ass thing. You see, because the world disgusts me and I've burned all my booty-call bridges, and mostly because I still pine over my aloof neighbor, I haven't gotten laid in a millennium (which also has to do with my surrender and the condition I am now in). For the most part I have be totally fine with this, you see, I seem to have replaced that old sex addiction with Jim Beam, but today, I don't know if its the pheromones or the sobriety, but I'm willing to hump the world. Luckily for me, I work in a sex store.

The end, pointless you see.