Confession time… I am a turkey chump. Not just a turkey chump, I know. Soap. Porridge. Toothpaste. Toothbrushes. Mouthwash. Yogurts. T-shirts. Plenty more. Above all though, I’m definitely a turkey chump. Offers or deals enticing you to buy two instead of one, suck me in big time when I’m out buying food. Buy two of this item and you will save 4 pennies. Think of how much you will save over 10 years! A lot of pennies. Turkey slices are the worst. Problem is that the two packets of turkey don’t last twice as long as one packet might. In fact, they roughly last the same length of time as one packet alone. Just eat twice as much than before. Seeing as it’s there. In front of me. So just pile it on. Horse it into me. Go on the turkey!
My New Ear
On that gibber note, free bars are kind of the same deal. Again, for me at least. A free bar on New Year’s Eve is just a bizarrely generous concept too. One of the biggest night of the year? From an Irish point of view, madness. Went to a place called the Sky Bar. Fancy Dan. Cool spot. I know a girl. Who knows a man. Who has a dog. That sits on a horse. Who plays a flute. And was able to hook us up. Half price ticket. Which in a lump still sounded like a whack. But when you throw in an all-you-can-eat free bar situation on top, it was great economics. Kind of place where you might barely get a few shillings change out of a hundred dollar bill if you bought a round of six drinks. Didn’t make much sense to me to have a free bar included. How would they not lose money? Until I was told it’s not Ireland. It’s Emerica. Where people don’t really drink. (Don’t or can’t?) Either way, free bar on. Horse out those turkey slices!
Book Induced Rambles
And then… and then I just had a good night. Initially I did think that there were more incidents or stories to be honest. Not really to flesh out though. More just sentences really. Such as the funny conversation with a group of older women about their various plastic surgeries. Too many photos with older dudes. Remembered that there actually weren’t too many women my age of note at the party. Highly odd for L.A. Couldn’t remember my address in the cab. Cab man may have done a bit of kicking out and about. Got home. Woke up. Still drunk. Rolled over. Discovered that there was a Jehovah Witness in my bed. Got filled in on how the religion works. Cult-like it seems. The teller used to be a door knocker herself. Until she had to flee. She had a tale to tell at least. All about the stories!
Had just the one beer at breakfast. Which tasted nice. So had a pitcher for dessert. Booze. Food. Booze. Pool. Met a horse rider girl. Denim shirt girl. Hippy girl. Abracadabra girl. Bumped into Johnny Knoxville a few times in the bathroom. Drunken chats. Pool. Pool table stopped working. No more pool. Drunk. Contained kind. When you realise you’re drunk after a long day, so you decide to speak less. And see more. Like an owl. Time to just go home. And sleep. And that was it. All in all though, a mighty way to end the old year and start the new one. Well, might not sound like a great tale to you. However, it was fun for me!
Rambles might reach new highs at the moment. The book is having an effect. Mind is playing tricks on me. Plough on! Songs on too, there are a few.
Nothing To Worry About – Peter, Bjorn & John
C’Mon (Party Pance Remix) – Chester French
Now We Can See – The Thermals
Holy Shit! I just realized that your life is like the stories of Charles Bukowski. Now that is something to be proud of!
Are they tales of a headless chicken too? Good job I have mine toned down here so as well. Never actually read any of his, although I know he’s had a few songs named after him so must be good! On that note, might be time for detox.