The Morning After

The weekend is quickly approaching and somewhere in the world is a young skank kicking him/herself for sucking on one too many vodka-sickles and waking up to some disappointing one night stand. It’s not uncommon. In fact, it’s quite something to be proud of just as long as the high volume of alcohol continues to saturate the blood stream. It isn’t until the morning after, that those very same skanks would much rather blow their brains out with a popcorn kernel BB gun for laying up with the joker who otherwise wouldn’t stand a chance in hell with anyone hopeless, desperate or breathing. Alas, it’s amazing what an abnormal amount of alcohol consumption can do to one’s judgment and yearning loins.

Once you’ve managed to escape from the stained bed sheets of your last night’s shame, it’s hard to determine if that pit in your stomach is nothing but a hangover waiting to happen or the image of what your drunk ass was too wasted to notice before you lined the lamp shade with your underwear. Shame on the lush! Not for getting laid by a perfect stranger. That’s normal. Shame on you for not pulling out the emergency “Yuck Face” kit before giving up the goods. Your disgraceful inebriation turned out to be someone else’s 10-point score card. You were the victim they prayed for and no matter how many times you vomit or scrub your sin-contaminated skin, the scent of indignity will linger on you like pollen in the Spring time. As you drop to your knees and beg the high heavens for forgiveness, be sure to pray that your sinuses are the only thing that flares up.

You may travel through the day with images of wild positions your nameless lover placed you in or hear the engraved outlandish, embarrassing and insulting names you may have demanded to be called.  You may blame it on the alcohol, like Jamie Foxx and T-Pain.  You may even blame it on the dry spell of not having any mortal flesh between your legs in the past 3-7 months.  Whatever your reason, no amount of excuses can cleanse the disgust of your level of desperation to bed the first person who was smart enough to catch you at your drunkest state.  You will forever be a trophy on the mantle piece of the ugly, the defamed, and some would even argue – the damn right lucky!    

How do you feel about yourself now???

Don’t be so hard on yourself.  Although ½ the world would probably point its fingers and laugh for the dumb choice you let that empty bottle of booze make for you, you should feel proud that you were able to spread your good cheer like a spoonful of heated margarine, despite the fact that you may want to bungee jump off a short cliff with no rope.  You have done a good deed for someone who otherwise may not have stood a chance for companionship if he or she were standing in the middle of a puppy adoption fair.  Your combined skills of being a ho and a lush has provided someone the opportunity to kiss and tell to all their loser-like friends about just how easy you are.   And just think – all it took was 90% of effort and a bottle of 80 proof liquor. 

Now that’s how you serve your country. 

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Quote of the week:    “If you don’t drink, then all of your stories suck and end with, “And then I got home.”

A LETTER TO MY HATER

Dear Hater,

It’s been a long time since I’ve had a chance to say thank you.  I would like to thank you for hating on me as much as you do.  You see, by hating me, you are helping me to the better person you aren’t willing to give me credit for. 

Ordinarily I would tell you to drive your car over a cliff, however I see your life is already doomed because you have nothing better to do with yourself than to find reasons to judge my personal success.  I’ve extended my hand to help you get a little self esteem and instead of taking my help, you damned it, leaving yourself in the same sh*t creek you were in when I first met you. 

Life is good for me.  It’s better now that I am away from you.  Yet you are trying your best to make yourself a part of my life.  For your information, I have enough crap pouring out of my ass after I eat a hefty combo of tacos and pickles.  I don’t need you to stink things up any more. 

If it wasn’t for your strong desire to hold me back, I would be a no good loser just like you.  I would have no friends, just like you.  I wouldn’t be able to keep a relationship, just like you.  I’d probably be sitting in a corner pointing my gossiping finger at everyone who’s so much better than me…just like you. 

car-covered-with-bird-crapAlas I have prayed for peace and tranquility.  I also purchased a flock of trained circus pigeons to unload steaming bird droppings on your car each time you wash it.  I’ve changed my telephone number and placed a herd of wild llamas on my front porch to attack at the smell of your presence. 

I have found my place in life.  I am happy and rich in more ways than money.  And it is all because of you  – my inspiration; my muse; my personal crap bag.  My hater!

                                                                       Love always,

                                                                        Hottywood

 

P.S.

I’m sure you won’t be a hater  for all of your days…well, I’m not totally sure, but I do at least hope that your existence amounts to something more worthwhile.  Just remember that the change begins with YOU90% of any effort is getting started. 

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Quote of the week:    “Haters only hate the things that they can’t get and the people they can’t be.”