Friday, October 30, 2009

Waking Charlie

Let's just get it out in the open, sobriety sucks.
The amazing wonders of the world aren’t really that great, at least not enough to warrant avoiding strong drink and ale.
I love beer. There I said it and I don’t regret it one itzy bit. The smell of hops and barley, the sweet finish, the camaraderie of being with others that share the same love, it’s priceless.
Beer is me and I am beer. How can I exorcise me and still be me?
O-o-o-oh, what a conundrum!
How can Charlie kill off Charlie and still be Charlie?
Sobriety is much like Oklahoma, if it up and disappeared few would morn its loss.
But if I had to be positive, my blotchy red nose is clearing up and my creative guitar playing is improving.
Other than that, I feel like road kill.
I blame this all on Bush. If that stinking Rooster-Hoover hadn't been elected I never would have felt the need to imbibe on a regular basis in order to numb my hatred of the man and all those slimy slithering sacks of putrid septic waste that hovered about him.
The alcohol industry certainly prospered under his horrifying tenure. Not to mention how the pharmaceutical companies worth went through the ceiling with increased sale of anti-depressants.
A nation of drunks and pill poppers left in the wake and all he can say is, “I had a good time as President donecha know”.
Now leave me alone because I’ve got some nice warm fucking tea just fucking waiting for me and I don’t want it to get cold and fucking piss me off all to hell now do I?

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