CHbOOZE YOUR OWN ADventureJECTIVES...

Well. The following is an experiment. Writing hammered produced the last piece of shit that I wrote.

I deleted it. Drunkard that I am. I didn't delete it cause I was drunk I deleted it because I was drunk when I smashed the keys and wrote it.

I need to know where to put in semicolons. I place them randomly for effect when I use them . So tonite I will start sober.

Drunk or sober, I don't know when to use them.

This is already tedious and mundane. One single, solo, cup. One single Solo cup. Filled with Blue label Smirnoff and Raspberry seltzer. Two ice cubes. Strong. Let me mix it.

(To go the fridge and micks a drink: continue reading.)

(To remain sober: sit there, open a new tab in the browser, bitch about the new Facebook layout, stalk an old fuck, click LIKE on something witty, close the tab. Open a new one, then go fuck yourself to Redtube or Yourporn.)

Rasp. Berry. I think of a succulent summerday filled with a berry that speaks with a smoker's haggard growl. A fullflavored Parliment stuck to the chapped lower lip. Like the progeny of my friend Amanda and one of the Fruit of the Loom guys.

Thats kinda stupid. Pretentious maybe. More than likely you don't know Amanda. Its even more than likely that you know that none of the Fruit of the Loom guys are berries.

So it was a stretch. I need music and the AC is cold. I have no blinds and people stare at me, whilst I am writing, from the dumpster when they toss away their garbahge. Thats french for rubbish, which is Anglican English for trash, which is what this is. So I contemplate throwing the computer out the window.

(If you want me to throw the computer out the window : Stop reading, fly to Florida, come to my house, and fuckin make me. Seriously. Come to Florida. I am lonely, and shouldn't have pounded that giant cup of booze. I have very few friends left, and the ones that remain are growing very tired of me. I have come to the realization that this is a very weak premise and have written myself into a corner without the wherewithal or literary intelligence to escape. These parentheses bang on my temples like a migraine, and I am starting to prattle. I wish I knew how to use semicolons as I am sure they would no doubt be helpful in this jag of verbosity. Lord help me now, I have a problem with booze and I am so scared of dying alone.........)

(If you want me to keep the computer where it is, and maybe mix one more little drink: continue reading.)

There seems to be a problem now. The bent desklamp already melted the ice cubes in the new drink. I have just typed for five minutes and erased it all with distinctive clicks of backspace, instead of holding it down; writing my initials in the dust of the dresser all the while.

All the while? yikes. Have I regressed or digressed seeking egress from thiss? All the while should go at the front of a sentence. Random sentence time! RANDOM SENTENCE TIME!

All the while should go in front of sentences.
Age should breed intelligence, not reticence.
These are random sentences. Not meant to rhyme. My favorite GNR song is MY MICHELLE!

The fucked up thing is that I would drive like this but I can't write. Truthfully, I don't believe three random sentences require a declaration of randomness. Obviously I have found the music and am now more enamored with the songs than typing.

Nothing seems to be making sense. O sm sctullsy...
I am actua;;y.....
I am actually wearing a spaghetii....spagetii...
I am actually wearing a s[aghetti//////// FUCK.

I am actually wearing a spaghetti stained wifebeater
and listening to November Rain.
)SEE A MONTH AGO(

Wait the solos coming up. WOOHOO.
Meber///nmever has a p[wrson
....neber...
never haas a [erson///
person done such a wonderful rendition of the aolo...
solo air guitar in a desk chair. O?? O??
I!!!!
fuckin naired ot/////
I fuckin nailed it.

To listen to second solo keep reading...to bail out now with your pride is useless.

I smell cigarettes and I want one. But I dont smoke anymore. If i pack a chew, maybe///

I did and I calmed down. To read this the way you do I have to break lines with sideways v the letters "BR" a slant and another sideways v. Its like this
but you cant read it cause its computer speak.

(To read what I write after listening to anotner song: continue reading)

(To stop npw...now...TOstop now: STOP readoing)

I picked CAnned HEat.

Going up the country I sit on a rock baked in the sun of a random Lower cape beach. Rocky as shit with no waves and tourists on the jeyyt...jetty. Youve gotta a home as long as Ive got mine. I miss the cape and I feel like a beaten wife leaving for the winter. I'll return in the spring, cause the bastard husband called winter should be incarcerated for another few months, only to be let out again with the icy winds of November.

I'll run into another door.
I'll fall down the stairs.

The bottles dented/

tHATS the gamut I run.

(To wake up in time tomorrow: Go to sleep now)