Step 1.
I like to be drunk; and people should do what they like right?
The only way I can bowl is when I'm plastered because the oil and dirt all over the ball would normally skeeve me out to no end if I were sober. Luckily, I lived walking distance to a bowling alley in Studio City.
Drinking at sensitive singer/songwriter's showcases and heckling them is sorta bad sober. But when smashed off your ass, you're just spontaneuous and wild, not a rancid meanie. It's also how you get songs entitled "Idiot" dedicated to you.
You're thinking I'm an alcoholic. You're wrong (and judgemental).
I don't shop drunk anymore. I went to the 24 hour grocery store at like 1:50 three sheets to the wind. I knew that it's illegal to sell alcohol after 2 am in California. So here's what my logic was. I opened the liquor and started to drink. By the time my pals and I were done getting Bagel Bites and cookies and burritos, the hooch was almost empty. So we go up front and the cashier took on some tone of attitude with me.
"I can't sell this to you."
"Why? I got cash plus I've already drank some of it."
"I can't sell alcohol after 2."
"But it's open. I have to pay for it."
"I'll get in trouble if I ring it in. "
"Then just say I dropped it."
Silence. She put it below the counter and then rang up the snacks. We paid (not for the alcohol) and left. Meanwhile, my friend Amanda shoplifted a Twix while I was debating.
But that's not the reason I don't shop drunk. Y'know those bins with candy that have the little scoopy things? Well just f.y.i...the scoopy thing is there for a reason. It should be the only thing that retrieves the candy. Don't use your hand. More importantly, do not use your mouth to get candy out. My hair got stuck after I genteely placed my head in the gummy worm bin. Fuckin plexiglass gave me split ends yanking the hair out.
There you go judging me again. It was a double dog dare, assclown. I had to do it.
The only way I can bowl is when I'm plastered because the oil and dirt all over the ball would normally skeeve me out to no end if I were sober. Luckily, I lived walking distance to a bowling alley in Studio City.
Drinking at sensitive singer/songwriter's showcases and heckling them is sorta bad sober. But when smashed off your ass, you're just spontaneuous and wild, not a rancid meanie. It's also how you get songs entitled "Idiot" dedicated to you.
You're thinking I'm an alcoholic. You're wrong (and judgemental).
I don't shop drunk anymore. I went to the 24 hour grocery store at like 1:50 three sheets to the wind. I knew that it's illegal to sell alcohol after 2 am in California. So here's what my logic was. I opened the liquor and started to drink. By the time my pals and I were done getting Bagel Bites and cookies and burritos, the hooch was almost empty. So we go up front and the cashier took on some tone of attitude with me.
"I can't sell this to you."
"Why? I got cash plus I've already drank some of it."
"I can't sell alcohol after 2."
"But it's open. I have to pay for it."
"I'll get in trouble if I ring it in. "
"Then just say I dropped it."
Silence. She put it below the counter and then rang up the snacks. We paid (not for the alcohol) and left. Meanwhile, my friend Amanda shoplifted a Twix while I was debating.
But that's not the reason I don't shop drunk. Y'know those bins with candy that have the little scoopy things? Well just f.y.i...the scoopy thing is there for a reason. It should be the only thing that retrieves the candy. Don't use your hand. More importantly, do not use your mouth to get candy out. My hair got stuck after I genteely placed my head in the gummy worm bin. Fuckin plexiglass gave me split ends yanking the hair out.
There you go judging me again. It was a double dog dare, assclown. I had to do it.
posted by willam at 9:52 PM
8 Comments:
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Oh, Willam! I miss being around your midnight impulses. I wish I had been there to photograph the results of your dare. It would go so beautifully with the gorgeous photo I have of another dare you successfully performed (you know the one-you in those adorable black ruffled panties and fishnets smiling coyly at my camera while lying on a shrink-rapped boogie board on the floor of Ron Jon's Surf Shop at one in the morning). Come to think of it, I could probably fill an album with 'Willam dare' photos. Let's go in together on this and make a coffee table book, shall we?
Oh, and be a dear and delete the "anonymous" posts, won't you? It offends those of us who love you that such insecure dribble is allowed to remain here for us to waste precious seconds of our life on. If I want to listen to blatent, jealous insecurity expressed as blind stereotypical hatred for others, I'll turn on Fox News. Please won't you format your blog so that your readers cannot post without identifying themselves by user name, or even better-screen posts and only make those public that you've approved? Every other blog site works under such terms; I'm sure this one has similar setting features.
After all, my love...you're a celebrity now. No one speaks without your permission now... ;)
so it was your hair in my gummy worms...
I could never judge you over a double dog dare! But I promise you this, I'm never buying candy unless it is safely sealed up in its own wrapper!
That's it. After last call, I'm walking into the WeHo Pavilions and heading straight for the Perrier Jouet.
Next time you're in Dallas, we'll go out on the town, and I promise I won't double-dog dare you to do anything. Well... Maybe not.
Haha- drunken bowling is the shit. And P.S- oil isnt always so damn bad... esp when it's on balls. But well... I'm guessing this isnt news.. so uhm... er.. hmm.. anyhoo- back to the Vodka.
What a great site
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