Stumbling is easy...go ahead try it.

It's amazing how quickly a good night can turn into a bad night. It's also amazing that I'm still alive. It seems somewhere between buying drinks for the cute girl who makes my burritos and running into the cute girl I met last week that I lost control. The last good piece of advice I remember recieving was "you shouldn't talk to her so wasted". I probably didn't take that advice. I do remember that on the way home a stranger laughed and pointed at me saying "that guy is drunk!" The walk home was terrible, and took forever, passing several friends on the way who commented on my state of affairs. I'm sure the story gets better if I asked them what they thought of my stumbling theatrics. Safely in the confines of my home at last, I spun like a 4 year old on the spinning thing on the playground. Then I puked, and passed out on the cold dirty pink tile that surrounds my bathroom. I closed my eyes on another sad chapter called the blackout diaries.

the Omega

Midget Swimming Pools and Cranberry Juice

after a night infused with sadness and drowned in the pretty little bubbles of cherry bombs I blacked out. Apparently at this stage of the evening was when I aquired a taste for the "abnormal" I was "spotted" (term used loosley) with a transvestite. All claims to this are considered "hearsay" as they can only be confirmed by other drunks. Trannies all look good in the dark pit of alcohol anyway. I also have vague images of nightswiming in a pool built for midgets, or maybe with midgets, I can't be sure. More alcohol was found at my final destination, and when mixed with cranberry juice made for a tasty beverage which stains easily.

the Omega

Dear Diary

Welcome to the blackout diaries. I can't promise you'll be amused. I also can't promise any information within is even closely related to "reality"


the Omega