Thursday, November 15, 2012

What are you really thankful for?

It’s that time of year where everyone is going to blog about feel good bullshit they are thankful for (Thought Catalog suggests sending an old friend a handwritten note expressing your feelings to an old friend!) I am thankful for friends and family that love me for me. I love my job, my supportive husband and my beautiful niece.

Are you really thankful for that? Like yes, friends and family are great, but are you really thankful for book club and pretty flowers and the show Revenge? That seems like a pretty half ass list…pretty conducive to the half ass life most people are overeager to settle for, I like to paint a slightly different picture of the things that I am really happy for.

I am really happy for alcohol and all the glorious effects it has on my life. Almost every sexual encounter I have ever been fortuitous enough to engage in has been relating to alcohol. Either I was so bombed that I settled for a 3, a chick was so bombed she settled for me or I drank enough that I was able to muster up the courage to actually talk to a pretty girl. If I was a Mormon I would be a virgin Mormon. What a shitty existence that would be. On the flip side alcohol has led to various downfalls in my life. Infidelity, legal troubles, hangovers, bouts of erectile dysfunction and me just being a shitty human being, but it’s easy to blame the alcohol. We live in a society where you can generally just say, “sorry I was hammered” and all is forgiven. It’s one of the only generally accepted excuses. Much better than saying, “sorry, I was sober I’m just actually a miserable person.”

I’m thankful to live in a world where personality matters. If I had to get by on effort, reliability and ability to follow orders I would be fucked. Like super fucked. I do not play well with others and I do not do the role of subordinate well. I would be the worst soldier ever. Fortunately though, I am extremely outgoing and fairly talented. I can succeed for the most part or at least get by on charm and wit. I will likely leap over deserving people in the long run because I am more fun to hang out with and generally awesome. It’s not that nice guys finish last, it’s just that shy quiet people don’t get noticed and in life you promote people that you like. Remember that whole rumor during pledgeship that the guys that were the best pledges would hold the most respect in the house? It’s bullshit, it’s all about who crushes the most ass and makes road trips more fun.

I’m thankful for dreams. Because without them what’s the fucking point? I could go move into my parent’s basement, get a job selling home security. No fuck that. Sales is the worst. I would go get a job in construction, it would save me a visit to the gym every day. Eventually I would find a decent woman to marry, we would buy a 2 bedroom house south of broad ripple and eventually procreate. The world would go on.  I think I would rather die of a heart attack at 30 before living out that existence. So I slave away collating scripts knowing that one day I’ll get stuck in an elevator with some producer and by the time we get out, we’ll be shopping my pilot to networks together. And if it doesn’t work out, at least I spent my 20’s attempting to do something interesting.

Honorable mention: I’m also thankful for Indiana basketball, Justin Bieber, independent cinema, electronic music, virgin air, giant soft chewy sweet tarts and also for you. Yes you. I know my ramblings are so pretentious and at times hard to read. If I were you I would be rooting for me to fail, but I won’t because I keep it real and apparently that’s a dying art form. Happy Thanksgiving, enjoy the football and the inside of your ex-girlfriend’s snatch.

Sunday, November 4, 2012

The Dilemma

Warning: The following post is a tad more graphic than usual. It in no way reflects an endorsement of how I believe people should behave. However it is an exercise in creative writing. I also wrote it when I was quite intoxicated. It is a work of fiction.

You look to your left. Slight panic. Where am I? A bed. Good start. Have come to in much worse places. This is not a prison or a ditch. Evaluate surroundings. Not my bed. That’s a body. Not attractive. At least she’s female. So I’m at her place. Piece it together. I went out last night. Hard. I blacked out. Jesus. When will I stop doing that. Did I bang this chick? Unlikely. I blacked out. Not 19 anymore. Drunken erections not to be taken for granted. Also that gram of blow I did. At least there is no need to worry about condoms and pregnancies and stds. But wait. What if I went down on her. That’s my move. It’s a classic go to. Fuck. Can vag herpes turn into mouth herpes? I guess I would just call them cold sores. Those are gross though. It hurts when you open your mouth. Whatever. I probably just came here and passed out. Where are my pants. All the way over there? Why do I feel the need to dramatically whip my jeans across the room? Maybe I can lean over and get them. She won’t wake up. Fuck, this bed is high. Is that a thing? Don’t wake up, I’m leaning, I’m reaching. Fuck. No chance. Oh shit, she’s moving. Do not roll over and attempt to cuddle me. Please. Oh shit. Ok so the covers shifted around a bit. I may have undersold her a bit. Nice tits. How am I going to get home. A cab would be 90 bucks. I can’t justify that. Spent like an asshole last night. But she’s not that bad. I;m digging that puffy nipple. Oh shit, I’m hard. Maybe I poke her awake. But maybe she blacked out too and will be weirded out to find a stranger in her bed. Is it wet on her side of the bed? Did she piss herself? Fuck it. I’ll rub it on her thigh until I get a hand job minimum. I can probably get a ride out of her. Unless she makes me take the bus. Or I could abandon this plan and just try to sneak out. That won’t work. Oh shit, my breath. Was I drinking tequila? Why. Quick strategic analysis, sneak out vs. possible hand job and lift home. The dilemma.