Ladies and gentlemen, I have outdone myself.
I have earned the name "Samoan" and then some.
Before I go any further I must preface this entry with the following: I am clumsy. And an idiot.
There are so many fuck-ups in the past month I don't know where to begin.
By being uncoordinated at the river I managed to break 3 toes.
This resulted in both losing my beer salt and my floppy hat. True loss.
Somehow in this time frame I also fucked up my car.
Both the headlights malfunctioned and now only work on brights.
My fellow motorists are particularly displeased.
Also, I broke the rearview mirror off.
And because it's fucking sweltering everyday and every night, no adhesive will hold.
I feel this is a sign from the fates that I am meant for future doom in vehicular form.
Oh and I no longer have insurance and can't pass the inspection, for which my car is 2 months overdue.
Naturally, I am behind on all my bills.
Bills are for schmucks.
And real people.
Which I clearly am not.
I'm not entirely certain I exist.
But the real topper here was the epic failure that was karaoke with my coworkers.
I felt pre-bar drinking was necessary considering my financial status of BROKE ASS.
And because I am a giant creep I decided only to take shots.
Doubles.
Vodka.
10 of them.
I probably should have stopped drinking when I lost count but to me that just meant, "Do two more."
Katy Perry's "Waking Up In Vegas" is the last thing I remember ...
Until I woke up covered in blood, grass, and vomit.
Maybe some other stuff in there.
Not gonna lie.
The details of the night are still sketchy despite my attempts at gathering accounts but the basic story is this:
I'm driven to the karaoke bar where I'm to socialize with my coworkers.
Only, that's not possible because I can't even sit on a barstool.
After falling oh, 3 times I finally hit my head and naturally get kicked out.
I'm then driven home where I absolutely cannot walk.
Or really comprehend language.
I have to be dragged across my front yard into my house.
I proceed to vomit on my couch and laptop. (I have been vomiting on myself since exiting the bar.)
I become a complete and utter beast.
Like a man on ether.
I'm a slobbering, out of control imbecile thrashing around.
Of course I have no control over my bodily functions.
And because this is my life, I had to have Mexican food that day.
By this time, the coworker who brought me home and got me inside has decided I need to be thrown in the shower. (Rightfully so.)
However I stumble, hit my head and fall straight into the litter box, where the cat shit then sticks to the vomit covering me.
She eventually called my sister repeatedly, turned me so I wouldn't die all Hendrix stylie and left.
I can never look her in the eye again.
That morning I woke up covered in shit, blood, and vomit.
These things were smeared in many locales throughout the house.
My hips, butt cheeks, elbows, lower back, feet, hands, and face all bare bruises, some worse than others.
I have three lumps on my head from probable concussions and a cut beneath my eye.
When I finally was able to shower, my hair was positively fucking matted with puke and grass and twigs.
There are drag trails in my front yard.
My sister, who was told this was AN EMERGENCY said, "I'm so glad I wasn't there."
Thanks.
Because I didn't feel like the world's biggest tool in the first place.
The irony is I didn't even do any karaoke. I was only there for 15 minutes.
In retrospect, nearly 20 shots of liquor are too much for anyone.
My coworker said, "I thought it was a little excessive but I figured you knew your limit."
And I do. It's somewhere below 10 doubles.
Maybe the percocets I took before dinner had something to do with it.
Who knows?
It reminds me a little bit of July, where I almost overdosed on morphine.
GOOD TIMES.
Then today, as if I weren't battered enough, I managed to cut a chunk of skin out of my pinky.
Not a cut mind you but a scoop of flesh.
Palm side. Knuckle.
To the bone.
Chaos ensued in the grocery store where I lost it on a man, yelling "WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE FAT MAN?"
I procceded to drop my groceries, break my beer and run.
When I finally did buy beer, at the gas station, it came out to $6.66
Did I mention my mother is getting ECT aka shock treatments?
This is after she lost her shit, walked around naked at 4 am and asked when the brides were coming to pick up the dancers.
Feeling really great about that one.
So, scrapping my entire life as of now.
Clearly must quit my job.
The bruises may fade but the humiliation never will.
I'd be in Fort Stockton right now if my car could make it.
When people feel bad about themselves, they should cheer themselves up by comparing themselves to me.
#34 - When nice people ask you to house sit their awesome house, do all of their drugs.
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