So it has begun. 2006 is off to a rambling start. In the past three weeks I’ve drowned my liver, burned my lungs with various types of smoke, and was attacked by a rabid Guiness bottle. Well, truthfully, the Guiness bottle attacked me right after Christmas, but I had to spend New Years with a giant white middle finger. One thing at a time though.
Every new year seems to bring up resolutions, both new and old. One more thing to judge my failing life based on. Last year, for instance, I was to quit smoking.
“Hey, you got a light?”
The year before that it was to work out three days a week. Well, I guess if that doesn’t include the days that end in ‘day’ then I’ve been successful. I don’t even remember what I promised myself I’d do before that, but fuck that, I don’t give a shit. I hate resolutions, probably because I have no resolve, but nonetheless I hate them – of course I have one this year, but we won’t discuss that yet.
2006 finds us in a very interesting world. There’s war and terrorism raging beautifully in the Middle East. The ship that is New Orleans is still trying to rebuild itself in spite having one of the worst leaders as its captain. Washington is unraveling as more rumors of widespread lying continue to bury the current administration. In short, it’s a fucked up world at the moment, but boy does it provide great entertainment. The Mayor of New Orleans finishes a sentence about the government being racist by making a racist comment himself. The President finishes his sentence about how he lied, by telling another lie. Maybe it’s because I pay more attention now, but it seems that right now we are in a very fragile political climate. I remember the past crises as coming up, being dealt with, then going away, most likely not to resurface until another generation has forgotten how to avoid such trouble. Now though, it seems like each issue that comes up is compounded by other, related problems. September 11th happens, we try to get Osama, we follow him into Iraq, then decide based on “intelligence” to oust Saddam because he has weapons of mass destruction. As the war rages on, it comes out that Bush lied, thus giving no immediate justification for attacking Iraq – we all know Saddam is bad, but not for the reasons we were given by our government. There just feels like there’s a lot of tension in the air these days, whether there is or not, I certainly feel it more now than I did when I was taking bong rips in college. But that’s a different story…
As For The Picture…
Well, funny story about that. A couple friends of mine got married on the 27th of December and they were kind enough to extend me an invitation. I, being the wonderful friend and booze hound that I am, accepted and attended their ceremony. It was nice and quick and they finished with a Native American prayer. The food was served buffet style and the booze was on the table next to the food. Well as I made my way up the line, another friend asked if I would be kind enough to cover him while he got some drinks. “Sure, why the hell not, I like serving drinks almost as much as I like pouring them down my throat.”
There’s a plethora of beer, booze and mixers to play with, so I’m having myself a grand ol’ time. A young lady asks for a Guiness. I compliment her on her selection and offer to open it for her. I reach for the bottle and it strikes. So quickly too. As soon as I touched the cap with the opener, the bottle grabbed my finger in it’s mouthful of glass teeth. I pulled my finger away quickly, but that’s all it took. Spouting blood from my finger I made for the kitchen, where I proceeded to clean out and bandage my wound. Of course, like the drunkard I am, I return to my post and finish the night by drinking more drinks than I served. After the reception, we went over to the bar across the street and kept the glasses full of fire water. Shortly after midnight I decide it’s time to leave, so I make my way back downtown to meet The Lady Luck for a couple drinks and a game of pool. The clock strikes bar time and we leave. I get home, remove the bandages, and I’m still bleeding like a hemophiliac. A stern look from her tells me it’s time to go to the emergency room. “Damn you devil woman, you can’t make me go see him, I’ll sick my lawyers on you!”
My protests are futile, mostly because at this point I agree with her. Fortunately this is a Tuesday night, so the ER is quiet and I’m back to see the Doc before I can blink. “Doc, she got me, got me good.” A puzzled look. “I tried to open the nice girl’s beer for her and it bit me.” A more puzzled look. “The bottle man, the bottle.” I’m pretty sure that at this point he’s convinced I’m insane, but then I tell him how it all went down and we move on. Six shots, seven stitches, and three hours later Doc finishes up. He offers me a prescription on the way out. My eyebrows go up until he tells me it’s for Tylenol 3.
“That shit’s for pussies, can’t even get a good buzz going off that.”
I thank the kind doctor and go home to bed.
It’s healed now, but I’m gonna have a nice scar to remember that wedding for a long, long time. And I still drink Guiness, just not out of the bottle.
And So We Go…
As the thunderheads roll in on this new year, mine’s off to an interesting start. I look forward to watching the fucked up climate we’re in develop and take us to the promised land, wherever that is.
Hey Doc, pass me the painkillers.
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