Friday, December 29, 2006

A Day of Rest

Slowly, I'm realizing it now. The days of going out, getting extremely drunk, and slappin' bitches is fading away. Hence, part of the reason why I barely write in here now and days. Obviously, it's mostly because I have nothing to write about. I mean, what's so exciting about, "So today I went to work and was disgruntle like everyone else..."

It's just not that exciting talking about work unless you happen to be a prostitute; which I enjoy reading about, or a professional Fluffer. That, I'm not that knowledgeable. Seriously, I'm not...

But in an attempt to not be so boring anymore these past couple of weeks, I've been out every night doing what my liver loves best. Drowning in Johnnie. Ah, what a good feeling! Letting the cold smooth fluid hit my lips, it's better than... well, everything else.

So after a few weeks of drinking what do I have to report? Well, not much. One, I'm no longer invited to company Christmas parties. Apparently, getting hammered at a company function is frowned upon. And I thought the things I did were well behaved.

CEO: "Excuse me Fob, you might want to take it easy and slow down there."
Fob: "Yea.... no prob Mista President. But hey, why don't you stop being a little bitch and take a shot with me."
CEO: "I don't think that would be appropriate."
Fob: "Being a little bitch?"
CEO: "No Fob! Taking a shot."
Fob: "Look, drink or I'll take a shot. On your forehead!"

But sadly, I have not had anything good to report in a while. The only other thing going on with me is I've drank everyday for the past two weeks. And today is my day of rest where I can recover. And recovering is what I need. Because according to the gynecologists at my work, they say these pains I'm having are either kidney and/or liver problems due to excessive drinking.

What that means? I'm not sure. Most likely I'll have to replace my liver with a tin bucket to catch all the alcohol I consume. But hopefully this day of rest will turn into a week of rest. Because I haven't been in this much pain since the time I worked as the stripper pole at a gay bar.

Male stripper: "Stop moving around Fob. My g-string keeps getting stuck on your teeth."
Fob: "My bad. It's natural instinct for me to start biting at things when I get poked in the eye..."

We'll see how New Years goes...


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