50. large 50.
dear bootiful partner in self-destructive alcoholism,
i miss you. so much. please. come back.
i was just at a scum-ish 'Oirish' pub with the bull dog enjoying 50 on tap and free mussels (!) and there was a little band there and the atmosphere was nice and good and obviously the 50 was deelicious. and the staff is actually irish and the mussel guy hit on me in my little adidas tennis dress.
and after two pints of 50, i suggested to the bulldog that we park the beetle (he's admirably absolute against drunky driving) and order a pitcher and some dinner and stay a while.
he was reasonable. what with tomorrow being pat's day and a heavy drinking day and with us eggspecting company tomorrow maybe it would be good not to go too hard tonight. and blah, blah, blah with his reasonable, responsible, sensical talk. and i LOVE him. and, sure, we hit the liquor store on the way home and, yes, i'm enjoying a quart of pilsner urquell in the cozyness of my own den now but . . .
GOD, don't i miss the days of a quick pint at the local clocktower turning into a couple pints turning into closing the place turning into hitting on the bar staff, staying for the after party, writing off our bill, taking the staff home for shenanigans and bongs and bacon and antique vibrators in the medicine cabinet and post-its on the sausages in the fridge and 'who's bruce and what is seeping into the jock river?' and chalking it up to just another tuesday night, and a gouda time was had by all. oh, and smoking, OH and smoking. oh and the tuck shop two doors down with that pam psycho bitch selling us deelicious cigarettes. what i wouldn't do for one now. oh god.
ah, loneliness. healthy, sober, non-smoking, well-adjusted, heterosexual, very happy relationship, productive member of society, gainfully employed, non-smoking, well rested loneliness.
come home!
spanky
xoxoxo
i miss you. so much. please. come back.
i was just at a scum-ish 'Oirish' pub with the bull dog enjoying 50 on tap and free mussels (!) and there was a little band there and the atmosphere was nice and good and obviously the 50 was deelicious. and the staff is actually irish and the mussel guy hit on me in my little adidas tennis dress.
and after two pints of 50, i suggested to the bulldog that we park the beetle (he's admirably absolute against drunky driving) and order a pitcher and some dinner and stay a while.
he was reasonable. what with tomorrow being pat's day and a heavy drinking day and with us eggspecting company tomorrow maybe it would be good not to go too hard tonight. and blah, blah, blah with his reasonable, responsible, sensical talk. and i LOVE him. and, sure, we hit the liquor store on the way home and, yes, i'm enjoying a quart of pilsner urquell in the cozyness of my own den now but . . .
GOD, don't i miss the days of a quick pint at the local clocktower turning into a couple pints turning into closing the place turning into hitting on the bar staff, staying for the after party, writing off our bill, taking the staff home for shenanigans and bongs and bacon and antique vibrators in the medicine cabinet and post-its on the sausages in the fridge and 'who's bruce and what is seeping into the jock river?' and chalking it up to just another tuesday night, and a gouda time was had by all. oh, and smoking, OH and smoking. oh and the tuck shop two doors down with that pam psycho bitch selling us deelicious cigarettes. what i wouldn't do for one now. oh god.
ah, loneliness. healthy, sober, non-smoking, well-adjusted, heterosexual, very happy relationship, productive member of society, gainfully employed, non-smoking, well rested loneliness.
come home!
spanky
xoxoxo
posted by Sticky & Spanky at 4:56 PM
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