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Confessions of a... oh you know who by now
Aug. 7th, 2014 02:18 amSince touching every inch of Nurse Feisty with my lips will definitely not be happening tonight, let me do that drunken status update thing I do by the grace of spell check and the power of the Internet. Surprise visit from the Magpie who is in town for a spell for an audition at stupid o'clock tomorrow morning and as such I found myself drinking in quantities that I swore I'd never do after Teddy Bear's birthday. See, here's the thing, when my man is in town I can really cut loose. Be myself, because everyone's looking at him there's no collateral damage to me being me. Now norrmally being drunk solo paints me as a boor of the most desperate and sordid variety, but when my m'man from LA LA Land's in Terminus well then a few drinks makes me the world's most awesome sidekick. Think Van Diesel meets Burroughs as your Robin, your Kato, your Chewbacca. Not an act I've managed to pull off solo as yet I'm sad to say.
But oh right now, it's so much fun to be this guy. I get to wax about the story I'm working on and find myself boot camp eager to help out with whatever project you may have ready for screen, stage or page. Let's do it. Let's make a story and take the rest of the world out of its dreary existence for an hour or two. I'm down.
Of course maybe this is just the last of the hornet venom in my veins coursing through the stung calf. That old yellow jacket poison which inexplicably makes me so damn positive about the universe for 72-96 hours.
Well anyway, before I earn your contempt in earnest, let me sign off here with the comfort that at least by writing online before the eyes of the amorous and glamorous that comprise my friend's list, I didn't open up the manuscript and start drunk prose-ifying where I could've done some real damage. For that I, along with some poor future editor, thank you for your indulgence.
Heh, tomorrow I'll wake up and know why the other kids won't play with me here in Sandbox Terminus (and well they shouldn't I'm sure). But for now, I'm in love with the monster manning the mirror and know without hesitation that I'm the best thing that never to happened to her.
10-fuckin'-4, over & out,
-JB
But oh right now, it's so much fun to be this guy. I get to wax about the story I'm working on and find myself boot camp eager to help out with whatever project you may have ready for screen, stage or page. Let's do it. Let's make a story and take the rest of the world out of its dreary existence for an hour or two. I'm down.
Of course maybe this is just the last of the hornet venom in my veins coursing through the stung calf. That old yellow jacket poison which inexplicably makes me so damn positive about the universe for 72-96 hours.
Well anyway, before I earn your contempt in earnest, let me sign off here with the comfort that at least by writing online before the eyes of the amorous and glamorous that comprise my friend's list, I didn't open up the manuscript and start drunk prose-ifying where I could've done some real damage. For that I, along with some poor future editor, thank you for your indulgence.
Heh, tomorrow I'll wake up and know why the other kids won't play with me here in Sandbox Terminus (and well they shouldn't I'm sure). But for now, I'm in love with the monster manning the mirror and know without hesitation that I'm the best thing that never to happened to her.
10-fuckin'-4, over & out,
-JB