...amidst self destruction with sailor jerry

on the way home from work today i purchased a liter of sailor jerry's finest virgin island rum and two liters of cola. had i been a real asshole i would have just ingested the whiskey and schnapps that craig left in robert's freezer. however, i am not that guy. i should probably be in pearland right now drinking with the screw loose crew, singing alkaline trio songs with the boys in brett's garage... but i chose to stay in austin and poison myself while watching the university of alabama (led by elitist douche bag nick saban) deystroy clemson in the georgia dome. if this were an analogy, my liver would be clemson, and...well, if you're not retarded, you can figure out the rest. about halfway through the game i decided to turn the sound of and begin blasting explosions in the sky, hoping that i would fall asleep before an angry blog crept onto the web and any promise of sleeping off tomorrow's hangover was destroyed. such is life.

the last two weeks have been painful. i am now alone. sleeping on a couch in someone else's home. eating his delicious cookies and avoiding the apartment i pay rent to live in like a voting booth come november '08. it's not that i don't love her anymore, because i do. (i've always been cliche...get over it.) it's not that i don't want to roll around on the floor with my dogs and cook gourmet meals in our sub-par kitchen anymore. these are all things that are very important to me, but they are mutually exclusive with my personal happiness. and hers. we cannot spend our middle ages resenting each other in front of the children that were imminently looming in our future.

i grew up in a household where complacency and apathy took the place of weekends on the lake. her parents walked away from each other in an attempt to protect their children from the things that held mine together. we were doomed from the start.

in an effort to distract ourselves from the fact that we did not belong together in the first place, we ammased large amounts of high interest debt and a stockpile of shit that the prince of brunei would envy. and what do we have to show for it now? 30% interest on an overpriced dinner at some sushi restaraunt in vegas. game, set, and match chase bank.

i could have sworn that i wasn't supposed to feel this fucked until i was 45, but apparently some gypsy put a curse on me when i was born. the grey hair at 16 should have been a clue.

also, how many hurricanes does it take before we realize that ray nagin should be president. that guy is a political genius. we would all be shitting rainbows and riding unicorns if he was in charge. or at least he would have us believing that we were.