Lent

Ahh, the sweet taste of alcohol. Can't get enough of it, can I? "It tastes so good when it hits your lips!" You know you love it, too. You know you love it when you get tishmaced and you're stumbling around in your apartment... or was it the parking lot? Anyway, all those car alarms were going off around you like millions of fans cheering you on, "Go man, go! Have another! You're the awesomest!" And you're just the totally awesomest tubular dude on the planet. Fuck it man, the most radical in the universe. FUCK, YEAH MAN!!! This is what life is all about, right? Booze. And boobies. But booze leads to boobies, so all you really need is booze, and the rest is taken care of.

Man, that's an awesome feeling. Really, it is. I have 1000's of interesting life stories. But they're all alcohol induced and not really interesting to anyone but myself and a few friends that were there and drunk. The ones that were there and weren't drunk are like, "That night was pretty lame."

Every time I get trashed and I do something stupid, I'm actually thinking to myself, "Wow man you really are awesome." And, frankly, I am. But when anyone else does it, it's pretty fucking lame. I don't want to ever see anyone else's drunken party pictures. They're fuckin' lame. Ooooh look how me and my friends are all smiling and we're holding bottles and ooooh look, I tripped. Hahahah, aren't I just the coolest?

No. You're a fucking loser. It's only cool when I do it. But I'm getting too old for this shit. I mean, I started late, man. The first time I got drunk was in junior year of high school. I think. Anyway, that's really late. I heard that the singer from Aerosmith was shooting whiskey before every school day when he was seven. And he's old, too. I think kids today are literally swigging beer in one hole, and crapping into diapers out of the other. The kids today are so hardcore. The other day I went to the hospital to pick up my nursing school sister, and paid a little visit to the nursery, you know, to scope out all the hot new babies (for Alyson). Three babies were smoking crack. And they couldn't even fully open their eyes, yet. Probably cuz they were so stoned.

Anyway, let me get back on track. I've never been Catholic. I've only been to a Catholic church once, when visiting my family in Jersey. I didn't get to do any of the cool Catholic stuff like confession, or get molested by the priests. It was pretty standard, first time in a Catholic church, stuff. Like sit for a long time, then pass a cup around and drink out of it, or something. It was nice. But, I understand that these freaks do some crazy things. Some crazy ritualistic stuff. Like, once a year, or maybe not, I'm really not sure, but they have something called Lent.

I watched Chocolat for the first time about week and a half ago or so (thanks, Charla), and I really liked it. For a movie without any gangbangs, I had to admit, I was pretty entertained. I mean, the little girl in it was pretty hot (once again, for Alyson). And her mom wasn't half bad, either. Oh, and Johnny Depp plays Irish river swine in it. Purdy cool. Anyway, the central theme of the film was that you shouldn't have to blah blah blah, something about eating tons of chocolate and turning into a fatass.

Interestingly enough, the film takes place during Lent. Lent is this time when the crazy Catholics go and abstain for 40 days from something they normally do. I think it's in honor of Josh Hartnett in the best movie of all time, 40 Days and 40 Nights. (I mean, a total hottie decides he can't jack off or have sex for 40 days and all his friends bet on how long it will take him to break down. I take back what I said about Hollywood sucking the shit out of Lucas' asshole. It totally turned my life around. Now I'm jogging 3 times a week and living vegan. Oh yeah, and that scene where Mr. Super Sexy Josh Hartnett makes Shannyn Sossamon climax by blowing little rose petals all over her ... That made me believe that love truly does exist).

So, after waking up from a drunken stupor and feeling like shit, once again, I decided I had to decide to decide to decide to do something about deciding about stuff and decide to do something about stuff. We (that is, my best friends Sloth and Chunk, and yours truly) were eating at the finest truck stop in town, and I was trying to keep from regurgitating malt liquor all over my pork rind home fries. I said out loud "That's it, dammit!" And Sloth was like, "What's it, baby?" And I was like, "Fuck those fucking skydivers!" And Chunk, always the deaf friend, was all like, "Yeah! Fuck those truck drivers." And suddenly everything stops. I was just upset about the two assholes we ran into the night before - the two phonies who were getting all the girlies in the bar by telling their stories of hair-raising skydiving adventures. Chunk, sweet baby Chunk - fucks everything up and gets us thrown out of the diner. Fuck those sky divers and their beautiful blonde locks. Flowing in the wind as they fall towards earth, approaching terminal velocity. Fuck 'em fuck 'em fuck 'em. And now, I'm hung over, starving and being pushed out of my favorite shithole greasy spoon.

That's when I said "That's it, dammit!" And Sloth was like, "What's it, baby?" And I was like, "Fuck those fucking dive bars!"

This, in light of the situation, made much more sense. Fuck those dive bars. Fuck those fancy bars where everything costs 15 dollars. And fuck those shitty dive bars with a new paint job, trying to fool everyone into thinking they're fancy and not really pulling it off, but still charging 15 dollars for everything.

In fact, let's get to the root of the problem. Fuck alcohol. Sure, it might be my dearest friend (because, you know, Sloth and Chunk are big fucking losers and I only spend time with them when I can't find anyone else to hang out with), but fuck it. For the rest of my life, I'm through with alcohol.

For the next 10 years I'm done with alcohol.

For the next year I'm not going to drink.

For the next 6 months...

Ok... how about this? For the next 40 days, I'm not drinking a damn thing. I can live with that. It's my Lent. Those Catholics may have been onto something. I feel so refreshed. So purified. I've already stopped hallucinating. For the next 40 days, I'm not going to soil myself. For the next 40 days I'm not going to vomit. For the next 40 days, I'm not going to get arrested. For the next 40 days, I'm not going to be molested by a Catholic priest.

Yep, that's it. It feels good to be clean and sober. Yep, no stimulants for me, no sir. Just me, myself, and I. And a big pot of coffee.

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