Drunk bloggin' on V-day

me & my lady.

Hey ya'll.  It's Paula Corey.  (I'm just tipsy enough to tell that joke and laugh at it, hoping you'll get it.  but if you're not from Georgia, or don't know anything about Paula Dean, you won't)

So valentine's day.  It's a bullshit holiday.  I'm willing to argue about that if need be.  It's always a bad day if you're single, unless you're empowered or in a good mood or find out you have a secret crush or some bullshit like that.  Fact is, though, I had a really shitty day.  Maybe I'll tell you about it later, but I'm not feeling up to typing it all out right now.

All kinds of shit that could go wrong did.  I had to work early and got off late.  Didn't have anyone to hang out with.  Had to eat my dinner re-heated.  Single.  Etc.  And then to top it off, Kroger didn't have any PBR pint cans.  What the fuck.  How do you run a grocery store beer aisle and not have any Pabst tallboys?  Hipsters unite in rebellion!

So I settled for the High life.  6 cans started, 2 and a half down.  My alcohol tolerance?  Also down.

My theory is that it has a pretty lady on the can, so she can be my valentine.  One thing I can tell you with absolute certainty is that these chewy peach flavored gummies I've got go with it incredibly well.  This shit is good.  Anyway, it's midnight right now.  The end of a long day's journey into night.  I'll keep providing updates as the evening progresses and as I continue to imbibe some booze.

Oh yeah, and I also made the best drunk impulse buy ever the other day.  $8 to renew my Netflix subscription?  Hell yes, please.  Fire up the gritty foreign films, the crime dramas, and the political documentaries.  I'm eatin' this shit up.  I especially love the intense, super in-depth questionnaire about your movie taste preferences.  Just in case you have a special fondness for Swedish language car chase movies or muppet buddy cop dramedies.  No kidding.  I'll be back in a few.  Probably with more grammatical mistakes and spelling errors.  And pictures of cats?  You bet your ass.

UPDATE: 1:22am


So make it 4 tallboys now.  That's 64 fluid ounces of cheap domestic beer.  Feelin' pretty good by now, and still surprisingly able to type coherently.  I've started my second documentary of the evening, a feel-good piece by the good folks at National Geographic about military contractors in Iraq.  Blackwater and that type of stuff.  It's actually pretty badass.  The one I just finished was about a vicious political campaign for mayor in Newark, NJ.

all of the reviews on this are dead on.  6 stars out of 5, from me

This is it.  Pictured to the left right.  Sorry.  I mixed myself up by trying to format everything in a fancy way.  And by fancy I mean switching sides on you.  Boom, boom!  It's like that.  It's over here,then it's over there.  You get it?  You got it.  Good.

Oh dang, man.  SOmebody just got shot on tv.  See?  I told you this whole netflix thing was a great idea.

Speaking of military contractors and the military, (and thusly, the navy, because it's part of the military) did I tell you I joined the Navy?  Because I did.  That happened a few weeks ago.  It'll be a while before I go anywhere, though.  September, to be exact.  Don't worry, I'll keep it happening until then.  It's just that there will be a period of 8 weeks in the future where there will be abosolutely no blog posts.  None.  Nada.  I'll be in boot camp.  It can't be avoided.  But it's okay, because I'll have a cool job that's guaranteed so long as everything stays on the up and up and I'll get to go to law school for free when all is said and done.  And did I mention the travel?  Fuck yes, the travel.  I'm gonna see the world.  All from the deck of a really big boat.  Maybe one like this.

you'll never sink my battleship

Is it just me, or is that epic looking?  Okay, so I probably won't be on a battleship, but it's nice to know that if a war breaks out, I've got something like that covering me.

Just so you know, I'm not a right wing nutjob, crazy person, or anything like that.  As a matter of fact, I'm a registered Democrat.  A bleeding heart liberal who believes in gun control and protests unjust wars.  Just a guy who ran out of money for college, has a lust to travel, and a desire to do something meaningful.  You can be in the military and still be a hipster, right?  I'm struggling with that a little bit.  That whole nervous and excited at the same time kind of feeling.

Anyway, that's neither here nor there.  Maybe I'll write more about that sometime when I'm sober as the date draws nearer.  Unless you comment and ask about it.  You folks are suspisciously quiet...

Time for more netflix.  Or video games.  And beer.  This can is empty and my valentine is downstairs in the fridge, rather lonely.  Don't worry, I'll be back.  I've got to squeeze at least one more update out of this. Maybe two.


UPDATE:  2:48am
Five beers gone, and everything is gravy.  I'm disappointed I can still form coherent thoughts in my head even.  that's the same as drinking two 40oz. bottles of beer.  Were you aware of that??  I mean, my brain can barely comprehend it.  Only diffrence I can rightly tell between this state of being and any other is that I'm pretty okay with everything.  Easy going as shit right now, man.  My documentaries are over and so are 5 and a bit of my 6 beers.  That phrasing reminds me.  (see?  I notice the jumps my mind makes are even more randome and disconnected in this drunken state)

England.  It's a pretty fucking great place.  I might even go so far as to say that the UK is the second best country in the world.  Wait, is the United Kingdom a country?  or are England, Scotland, and Wales all separate entities??  Well, I mean I know they're separate, but how separate?  That's beside the point.

England is pretty awesome.  Or the UK.  Maybe both?  I mean, they have a royal family, but they have no authority.  A symbolic monarchy?  It's just poetic and beautiful in a very strange way.  And speaking of poetic and beautiful, those lot have got quite a history with words.  Invented the English language, don't you know.  Shakespeare.  The Beatles.  The BBC.  The same nation that produced Bowie and Led Zeppelin.  Plus, soccer.  Football, as they call it.  And they've got my favorite show (Top Gear) on the tele.  ANd colossally awesome accents.  Sure, they've got bad teeth, but so do I.  Who gives a shit?  What a rich culture!  If they had baseball in England, it'd be a nearly perfect nation.  Instead theyv'e got cricket.  What the fuck is cricket?  I don't even know, man.

It's time to smoke a cigarette.  I love cigaretes.  Nicotine is pretty awesome too.  But you know what?  You can buy half packs of cigarettes in England.  A pack with only 10 cigarettes in it.  That's just god damn adorable.  Later.  Much.


UPDAETE: 3:57am

not to be disappointed, hre is a picture of a cat

So all of my beer is gone.  that's 96 ounces.  That's quite a lot of beer.  I'm going tobrush my teeth, drink some milk, and eat some chocolates.  Fuckain valentine's day is quite over.  Another cute picture?

is this or is this not the cutest thing you've ever seen?

That is all.  I don't know what i was going to be talkinb about, but the time has come bor baed.  I'm not even going goin to bother correcting those typos.  I figure you deserve to see it as it is for a bit.  Bed time, kiddos.

Good night and good luck.

;)

Fear and Loathing in Shorter, Alabama

Forgive me readers, for I have sinned.  It has been nearly two weeks since my last confession entry.  I'm pretty sure I haven't even uploaded a single mixtape this year.  Yet.  That's not to say I haven't made one or two or seven, they just haven't gotten uploaded.  I know this sounds like an excuse, but I've been working a lot...  I barely have a social life anymore.  And I've been experimenting with new music and rediscovering forgotten artists.

picture not related to anything other than being fucking awesome.

Okay, so most of that is bullshit.  I've just been kind of lazy lately.  I end up coming home from work, watching a movie, playing video games, taking too much nyquil, and sleeping into a dream coma.  Well, that's what happened yesterday, anyway.  I find that if I don't force myself to do something regularly, it turns into this kind of situation we find ourselves in right now.  So far, this is a blog post about my failures as a blogger.  So far, this is a stream of consciousness.  The words that pop in my head are translated into finger strokes and words on the computer screen.  I'm listening to the Silversun Pickups again.  Again?  Did I ever stop??  I should start painting again...  This is getting pointless......

Last time we spoke, I was excited about going to see Best Coast, Wavves, etc, blah blah blah, you already know about this part.  The show was fucking awesome.  Wavves closed with my favorite song, played a bunch of really good ones in the middle, and I think there was probably a cover in there somewhere.  I can't exactly recall because I was too immediately intoxicated to file it away in my long term memory.  Best Coast was a different story.  I don't know what I was expecting, but it surpassed it by a factor of 124%.  They pretty much played every song you could have wanted them to play.  I can't remember a single song off of Crazy For You that didn't get played in there somewhere.  Scattered amongst the mix were a few gems from earlier EPs and 7"s (notably "That's The Way Boys Are" and "Sun Was High (So Was I)").  Their sound is even better live and Bethany is just plain adorable.  That's all I have to say about that.

if this don't make you happy, get the fuck outta here

And now it's time for another picture story!  Are you excited?  Cause I sure am.

So last friday, I got off work and texted the homeboys to let it be known that I had the whole weekend off for the first time since starting this job.  Tyler's suggestion was that we drive across the border to Alabama and hit up the casino.  The motion passed unanimously, and frankly, I had my sights set high.  I had just gotten paid and realized pretty quickly that I could afford to spend $100 and still be on pace to get the car I'd just found at a used lot by the end of the month.

1995 Mercedes C280.  classy as fuck

Needless to say, I was stoked.  I'm a secret ninja at blackjack and have known the basics of card counting since I was about 14.  I'd been to a casino only once before, in Mississippi and it wasn't all that great.  For some reason though, I knew this would be different.

what I was expecting.  not literally the Bellagio, but fancy fountains and lights and stuff.

I knew I was going to make a fortune at the tables.  We were going to clean these suckers out and next time, we'd go to Vegas and do it up right.  We were going to drink at the bar for free, I was going to quadruple my money, and we were going to get comped a night at what must surely be the finest hotel in the state (in retrospect, even the finest hotel in Alabama can't be too great).

doin' work.

I was going to win enough to buy that car, a new bass, and a lot of cool shit.  Strippers and alcohol, the works.  I think you get where I'm going with this.  Weezy was going to deliver a briefcase full of money to me at the craps table.

evidently this is an average day in Wayne's life.

Late that night, however, I learned that in the proud state of Alabama, casinos are not popular with the lawmakers.  The one we were planning on going to had been raided by the governor's special anti-gaming task force several times in the past six months.  I then discovered that Alabama casinos do not have table games, just pure games of chance, and that by law, their slot machines must be called "bingo" machines in order to stay within a legal loophole.  My reaction?

WHAT

THE

I was somewhat less than pleased.

But then, Tyler told me they had dogs and a racetrack, so I kind of changed my attitude.

yes, there is a strategy to picking the right dog.  pick one that's not fat, looks strong, and takes the biggest dump before the race.

I thought the dog track angle was pretty cool at least.  It might be kind of seedy and frowned upon by animal rights activists, but dammit, this is gambling, and I was looking for a good time.  If I could make money picking dogs and playing slots while drinking for free, then I'm calling it a good day.  In a worst case scenario, it played out kind of like the Hangover and we all have a lot of fun at least.

we didnt' find a baby, but I might have stolen a cop car on the ride home

So, after 3 hours driving and much anticipation, we walked in and... well... this is what we got.

at least you can smoke indoors here

Old people and poor folks all winning the money that rightly should have been ours in games of chance. You can spend lose a lot of money very fast at a casino.  I found this out by losing nearly $100 in the first 45 minutes after sitting down.  I ended up hitting what would have been (I'm told) a $2000+ jackpot had Tyler not convinced me to quit wagering $3 on every pull of the slot machine.  In the end, I barely broke even and covered most of my expenses for the trip.  I smoked way too many cigarettes, had a few free beers and a surprisingly good bbq sandwich, and learned a valuable lesson.

That lesson?

Stay the fuck out of Alabama if you can avoid it.  Unless you like good barbecue and college football, in which case, proceed.  That's actually probably unnecessarily harsh, all things considered.  I did have a good time, but I'm not sure how I'd play it if I had it all to do over again.

Next time, we're rolling to Biloxi, Mississippi in a white Benz.  Consequences be damned.  I'm letting it all ride on the next hand.

Mixtape #5: "Christmas Blues (side A)"

Hello, loyal readers!!  No, I have not forgotten you.  The past... span of time has been rather hectic and the world is ripe and full of upheaval.  I moved, I've been working, and I literally had to wrestle a bear in order to get internet properly connected and established at my new place of residence.  I promise that I have been (not so) hard at work trying to make it up to you for seemingly disappearing and leaving you dangling on a precipice of anxiety.  Man... that's a good phrase.  I better trademark that shit before anyone steals it from me.  Violence will befall you if you steal my phrases from me.  That's not a threat, just sayin' is all.

Anyway, I'll tell you some cool stories about what's been going on (if I feel like it) later.  Right now, I have a super surprise for you.

As you may or may not have realized, the holiday season is upon us.  Personally, it snuck right the fuck up on me.  Which is okay, because I kind of hate loathe christmas music and most christmas movies (Grinch & Christmas Story aside, that is).  It's really the commercialization and all that nonsense more than anything. I mean, I like getting presents and all that, don't get me wrong.  Hell, I even like giving them.  But since I'm not any good at being a secret computer hacker and I can't individually track every single person who's read, visited, or said nice things about my blog, I'm going to just give you all one really awesome blanket present.  Today, loyal reader, I give you the gift of the blues.  Special limited edition double mixtape featuring 26 of my favorite blues traditionals, improvisations, and modernizations from an assortment of artists, thieves, murderers, and other various undesirables.

Now, I wanted to use a pretty loose interpretation of what the blues actually was here, so we've got a seriously awesome mixed bag of goodies.  Every decade from the 20's to the 00's is represented between side A and side B (which you'll have to wait for until tomorrow.  come on now, I can't spoil christmas for you completely...).  80+ years of traditional spirituals, blues folk, slide guitar, and electric church, every ounce of it extra dirty, a little mean, and double-plus good.  And if you don't agree that every one of these songs is 100% blues, feel free to engage me in a fruitless argument in the comments section.

So if you get done singing christmas carols and you've got a snarl on your face, or you wake up tomorrow morning and find a lump of coal in your stocking, then download some of this goodness on your new computer, listen to it on your new ipod, and then go write a song on your new guitar about how much your new christmas sweater blows.  If this shit doesn't wipe away your christmas blues, then I'll give you a 100% money back guarantee.  Just pay the postage and handling.

Run with it.  And you better enjoy it, because there's plenty more where this came from.


1) I Can't Quit You, Baby (live at the BBC) - Led Zeppelin
2) Baby, It's You - Smith
3) In My Time Of Dyin' - Bob Dylan
4) Sweet Home Chicago - Robert Johnson
5) Dying Crapshooter's Blues - Blind Willie McTell
6) Nobody But You - the Black Keys
7) The Weight - the Band
8) Dust My Broom - Elmore James
9) John the Revelator - Son House
10) I Fought Piranhas - the White Stripes
11) Red House - the Jimi Hendrix Experience
12) Staggolee - Mississippi John Hurt
13) The Ballad of Curtis Loew - Lynyrd Skynyrd

Wolves are cooler than tigers.

Hey everybody.  It's nearly 3am, and I've got to get up early tomorrow to move.  Oh joy.  The new place is actually probably less than a mile away from here and definitely much easier to get to and direct folks to, so maybe that's a plus.  Bigger bedroom, bigger bathroom, much more closet space, better view.  Super plus??  Perhaps.  Tiny kitchen.  Yuck.  Speaking of yuck, there is a band called Yuck.  They're actually pretty good, and you can download a lot of their songs for free from their blog.  DIY music at it's finest.  And that's a great band name, is it not??  Really grabs your attention.  Hey, and speaking of band names, you know, there are a lot of bands with animals in their name.  Think about it.  Frog Eyes, Band of Horses, Minus the Bear, Tiger Army, Wolfmother, Wolf Parade, Wolves in the Throne Room...

Hmm... a lot of wolves there.  "Why could that be??" you may find yourself asking.  Well lucky for you, I will tell you.  It is because wolves are awesome.  That's a fact.  Most people seem to be either dog or cat people, and yes, I know that's a gross over-generalization, but it just kind of works out that way.  This can be extrapolated to a much grander and more epic scale.  You're either a wolf person or you're a tiger person.  Unfortunately, in this day and age, both of those animals are pretty much endangered, and that's pretty sad, cause I think they're both inarguably awesome.  However, thanks to the wonders of the National Geographic Channel, I may have been converted fully to the wolf pack.

I just watched what happened to be a totally bitchin' documentary about a wolf.  This wolf has a pretty unfortunate name.  Black Wolf.  Believe it or not, for the wolves living in Yellowstone, that's a hell of a lot more creative than most of their names ever get.  However, living where he did and being a wolf meant Black Wolf was kind of a big deal.  Almost all of these wolves have collars and are tracked and studied exhaustively, and Black Wolf was no exception.  Early in his life, it became clear that he was no ordinary wolf, however, and they started filming his ass a lot.  He lived almost double the life expectancy of other wolves in Yellowstone, fathered almost 30 cubs that survived to adulthood, killed literally hundreds of elk, caribou, and coyotes, and eventually became the alpha wolf of one of the largest packs in the vast park. And for most of his life, he actually lived as an outcast, a lone wolf never completely accepted into a pack.  That's just epic.  I mean, that's the kind of shit Disney might make an animated film about.  It would probably suck and have way less violence and all that, but still, it's not a bad idea (note to self: market this before Disney can).

Look at this badass wolf just lookin' all majestic and awesome and... covered in blood.

I don't know if you're aware of this, but I actually have a velvet painting of a wolf.  Until now, I kept it just because it was kind of interesting and kitsch and was given to me, but all of the sudden, it just feels a little more awesome.

And speaking of awesome, let me show you another awesome thing that I have been made aware of.

What is this.  I don't even.

Boom.  This thing.  What the fuck is that about??  A friend showed this to me joking about how awesome it would be to get one for christmas.  Personally, I laughed aloud.  It's good for a joke, but that's about it. I don't like knit hats and I'm perfectly capable of growing an amazing beard without having to substitute a fake one to keep my face warm.  This almost seems like a cop out.  I am disappointed in you, world.

And speaking of things that disappoint me, let us address the subject of Four Loko.

Last night, I ventured to the gas station to acquire a fresh pack of cigarettes.  Not an uncommon occurrence.  However, on this particular evening, I got to feeling bold.  I wanted a beverage.  So I went to the back and there was the obvious answer, staring right the fuck back at me.  Four Loko.  23.5 fluid ounces of hell.  This is a beverage which has been outlawed in several states.  They're trying to make it so you can't get this shit.  I have literally heard nothing but negative comments about it, it's taste, and the things it does to the human body (unless you count "it'll get you drunk" as a positive comment).  So my wallet $8 lighter, pack of Marlboros and Four Loko in hand, I triumphantly exit.  After all I'd heard about the watermelon flavor, I opted for fruit punch, hoping it would be less offensive to my tongue.

I pop the top and take a nice, long swig, and... I don't see what all the fuss is about.  It's not so bad.  I take another slurp.  Sure, it's not the best thing I've ever had, but I paid all of $2.34 for nearly 3 cups of this stuff.  I mean, I did the math, one can of this stuff is like the equivalent of 6 glasses of wine and 2 red bulls.  Literally.  That is not an exaggeration.  That simply cannot be good for you.  Another couple of sips and suddenly, I'm not feeling it.  I decided the taste could politely be described as "slightly off-tasting, possibly tainted, metallic Hawaiian Punch", but with an after taste of stale turpentine and iron shavings.

You stay classy America.

Seriously though, don't bother.  No, I don't think you're getting it.  Don't drink Four Loko.  Unless, you know, you're really cheap, your taste buds don't work, or you really want to get wasted.  Though I was pleasantly surprised at the buzz I was able to catch from just one can, I wonder if it was really worth my dignity.

Anyway kiddos, it's bed time now.  I've got shit to do tomorrow and I'm not sure how quickly internet will be up and running at the new place.  Plus, I really don't even want to think about how tired and worn out I'm going to be in less than 24 hours time and I might not even want to blog again for a few days.  This might suck a little bit.


EDIT:  I bet that's the first time anyone has ever labeled a post with both Disney and Four Loko...

oh noes! we gots troblems. (picture most definitely related)

For reasons beyond my understanding or control, my brain occasionally fails me.  And I don't just mean in situations where I'm probably drunk or standing far too near a pretty girl (although the things that come out of my mouth on those occasions defy all logic and reason).  Over the years, one recurring way that this seems to happen is when I am trying to speak and think at the same time.  Clearly, these are two incredibly complicated tasks.  It's not that I don't think before I speak, in fact, it's quite the opposite.  Sometimes I think way too much before I speak.  Let me demonstrate with an example of what goes on inside my head versus what my mouth ends up saying during a typical conversation.

Brain:  Oh dear.  This seems to be a problematic situation that this individual is describing to me.  Very troubling indeed.  Hmm... is this trouble or a problem?  Oh god.  She's looking at me like I should be saying something.  Wait, am I supposed to be agreeing or disagreeing?  Fuck.  This shit's way too hard. Oh no, I still haven't said anything.  This is distressing...  Quick!  AGREE!!

What actually comes out:  Buuuuhhh... I, uh, well you gots troblems... ??

I end up being totally incapable of choosing between one of two words, sometimes words that don't sound anything alike or have any kind of similar meaning and before I can decide which to use, the words are already coming out of my mouth and it's too late to not sound like a drunk retard.


Lately though, my brain has been finding new and interesting ways to keep me from succeeding in... well, in pretty much anything.  Case in point:  I am pretty god damn sure I have ADHD of some kind.  Wait, are there even multiple kinds of ADHD??  I don't know.  I am not a scientist.  Please do not judge me.

Anyway, I have got way too much energy.  When the mail comes, I sprint to the road and then jump back like a 5 year old girl who's had a few too many pixie sticks to be able to sit still, even though it's probably just some stupid political fliers and maybe a reader's digest (which is just a filthy, stupid publication, by the way).  Shit, I lost my train of thought.  See what I mean?  I got distracted by a television commercial that had a submarine.  And then for some reason I started thinking about bears.  And then I just HAD to put on my fingerless gloves so I could feel like a hobo when I go outside to smoke my cigarette.  Is it possible for ADD to come on later in life?  I don't know about that.  Someone smarter than me is gonna have to answer that question.

Anyway, I'm tired of talking about this and it's really cold out here.  So I'm gonna finish my menthol.  You just keep doing what you do.

Seacrest.  Out.