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1:26 a.m. - 2002-11-10
Ye Olde Diary Entry
See, the bars around here are in their own magical time zone.

They're on "bar time"....The clocks are set about 20 minutes faster than the rest of the world. So, while 2 a.m. is when bars have to legally stop selling alcohol for the night, when you're in a bar and 2 a.m. comes around, and the bar kicks you out into the street, you get out there only to glance at your watch and realize it's really only 1:40 a.m.

The night's not done yet.

So, at this point, I have a general rule to live by....and anybody who goes out drinking with me must live by the same credo: "By god, it's not 2 a.m. at all!! We have twenty minutes!! Quickly, we must go to the nearest liquor store, and buy more alcohol for the road!!"

So, my drinking pals and I go to the nearest liquor store, with time to spare, and this is where I have another credo that I live by:

Everybody who's with me, myself included, MUST buy a bottle of alcohol that they've never heard of, and each person must get a different brand.

None of that Budweiser nonsense.....or Corona, or any of that...

It's all about the mystery.

A few weekends ago, for instance, I remember drinking something called Hog Heaven. It was a pure black liquid that tasted like urine. I drank it all.

When I say "I remember" drinking it, I use the word "remember" in the loosest sense...I actually remember very little.

So, last night, I went out drinking with two coworkers of mine (one male and one female), and once again my credos came into play.

At the post-bar liquor store, I bought something called Ye Olde McGregor's or something like that....It was some kind of stout ale.

It had a picture of Satan on the label.

One of my other coworkers bought some sort of liquor with a picture of an 8-ball on the label.

I'm serious about buying shit you've never heard of at the liquor store....It's the reason that I so often end up unconscious, face-down in the sand on the beach, at the end of my drinking nights.

So, my third drinking credo, is that we have to wander around the beach, drinking our mysterious liquors, before we go home. In other words, we have to get even MORE drunk before driving home.

It was raining last night, but we didn't let that stop us, so we walked around drinking our disgusting, black mystery liquors. Every swig that I took of Ye Olde McGregor's was like playing Russian Roulette with my gag reflex.

I have a credo, though, that everybody has to drink ALL of their mystery liquor, no matter what. And whoever has the most disgusting mystery liquor is the winner.

Last night, I think I won.

Plus, my mystery liquor had Satan on the label. Bonus points!

When we finished, I drunkenly drove through the rain and fog to my female coworker's house. My car, incidentally, has expired registration. The tags on my license plate say "Sept. 02"...And, I have no rear brakes. My front brakes work fine, but that still only gives me 50% braking power.

So, basically, when I push on the brake pedal, it takes about 10 seconds for my car to stop.

Add some heavy rain into the mix, like last night....plus add some Ye Olde McGregor's in my stomach...and it might as well be Mr. Toad's Wild Ride.

At my female coworker's house, I saw the biggest penis I've ever seen.

On TV.

They had a huge wall television...one of those flat-screen thingamajigs. The screen was about 5 feet across.

Somehow, anal sex porn began playing on the large TV, and I was subjected to the largest display of anal sex close-up shots and cumshot facial blast footage I've ever seen.

The female porn star was being fucked in the ass, and when the male porn star pulled his 8-foot long penis out of her ass, her gaping anus was probably about 2 feet wide on the TV.

I could've fit my whole head into her asshole.

When it comes to porn, I have a new credo that I swear by: Porn and big-screen TV's don't mix. I don't mind seeing a girl's gaping anus cover an entire 5-foot TV screen, and it's not so much the 8-foot penis that bothers me....What I didn't like was the rear views that showed the guy's hairy 3-foot wide ballsac slamming against her pelvis.

Ballsacs should never be 3 feet wide.

At the end of the night, I somehow got home alive, and went nighty-night, as the mixture of Jack Daniels whiskey and Ye Olde McGregor's ale mixed in my stomach.

I slept like a baby.

Today, when I woke up, I vomited about half a gallon of liquid from my stomach. I can't hold down any solid foods. I found out my favorite gray sweater is missing (the one I was wearing last night)...My wallet is empty, and so is my checking account, which is funny because I don't get paid for another week....

Now, the larger than life display of anal sex might have been to blame, if I had vomited last night. But I didn't vomit till today.

So, obviously, I blame Satan.

I blame Ye Olde McGregor's.

Me and Jack Daniels go way back. He would never do this to me.

But, you just can't trust Satan....

My new credo to live by, from now on, is this:

Never drink any sort of alcoholic beverage with Satan on the label.

If you do, you just never know what will happen....

You might die, you might magically become bankrupt overnight, you might vomit a gallon of stomach fluids the next day, you might lose your favorite sweater.....

Satan works in mysterious ways.

Plus, ever since I drank that Satan liquor, I've been using the word "credo" way too much...

It's sort of creepy...

 

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