It is Friday: Go Right Ahead
I was sitting in another bar with the Mexican who spoke English.
The world is deluged with tranquilizers and energy drinks.
Birds, please assemble!
And I was unreal to the others.
To the drinker as well as the drunk.
I found myself spanking a tequila.
But you got it? Yes, I got it.
thhraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagggggggggggggggggggggggggh
Thermodynamic SHOW-Down.
“That’s a problem,” she said.
Things could start crumbling fast now.
Ha Ha.
Friday, No? Go Right Ahead.
Nail your whiskey sweat over the fireplace.
If you’re going to write, for God in heaven’s sake, try to get naked.
Part drunk, part bee-stung dog.
Holding a bottle and a leashed alligator.
You ever lived out of a lake?
A snake will bite when dead.
I’d much rather sit here and look at trees.
You smell sweeter than soap.
I don’t drink liquor!
I fall into…
I dip my tongue.
It is Friday: Go Right Ahead
Booze takes a lot of time and effort if you’re going to do a good job with it
I want to wrangle. Who wants to wrangle?
Arc of delight
Bumped into the commode!
Oohh, look what we have here (scotch under car seat)
That morning she pours Teacher’s over my belly and licks it off
I need a festival
Here is some math: fuck plus you
Hummers? What are hummers? Hummers are time-controlled shots of liquor
Look, counsel and process the events, or
decorate the loaf. Send it to the oven
Friends, I thought this was living. A house where no one was home, and all I could drink.
It is Friday (not): Go Right Ahead
Sorry. I was mara-stumbling (stumbling through a marathon)
Sorry. So drunk to not realize my drunkenness
Sorry. But you must order your life for it to fall apart
Want an hour to vanish politely? Well…gin
Anyone can panhandle at night. Even the afternoon. I’d like to see you properly panhandle in the morning
Strange. All whiskey is “fairly good.”
Is that you, trembling in the bed?
I can’t seem to click my tongue with my teeth. Maybe that’s only for novels, or sober people
Disgrace will dive at you!
Drunk as a fucking postage stamp
Me? I prefer an array of siphons and a punch bowl big as a synagogue
Ceiling up your honey! My Sara!
That’s cold
It is Friday: Go Right Ahead
Life. In the bleachers.
No, no, gibberish with halos.
After a month’s sobriety my faculties became unbearably acute and I found myself unhealthily clairvoyant.
Make me a lovable drink.
Make me toxified.
First, catch the tuna. Then chop the tuna!
I need a pilgrimage.
Put a cork in my lunch, please.
Why does man feel so sad today?
Me? Mirror gloss on a shoe.
Alcohol guarantees that bad news will come true.
I said please!
It is Friday: Go Right Ahead
I am above the weakness of seeking to establish a sequence of cause and effect.
Stupidity is a talent for…
Drunk after one glass. They say I am susceptible.
State everything twice: once when sober, once when drunk.
I was drunk so was carried ashore. So what?
The fellow with the plum-pudding face. He sold me a cask of gin!!
(Written to Poe.): Sir. If you should come to Richmond again, and again should be an assistant in my office, it must be especially understood by us that all engagements on my part would be dissolved, the moment you get drunk.
Words are like carriage wheels. They move.
I am upset by little things.
Folks. Folks. I feel. I feel I have drunk something. This lecture cannot be given.
It is Friday: Go Right Ahead
Visit me! You can come unannounced, drunk, sober, or even leading a giraffe.
Rivers of gin and oysters.
Why did you tell that pretty girl, who was probably your sister, that I was drunk?
Muzzle a dog and he will bark out of the other end.
Instead of banning drink I will ban my limited sense of obligation.
The clouds once more bid me.
How drunk, or how drunkly sober under-drunk, can you calculate you are now?
Hurray for the wine-colored corduroy!
Sorry about last night. A sloth or mudlark would have probably been better.
No, I’m not drinking anymore. Only wine.
It is Friday: Go Right Ahead
I am paranoid and belligerent. You?
How I stumbled once drunk into Mary.
A writer’s life is a sentence.
After the picnic, more beer.
Clocks. They annoy.
When I die I want to decompose in a barrel of porter and have it served in all the pubs in Ireland.
Is it OK to pray for an orgasm?
I like to waltz in.
Take it for Christ’s sake and get drunk!
Large beer. Please. Shut up, Mom.
Ha, ha, drink up, death deliverers.
A milky, cold smell…
Go Right Ahead: It is Friday
I drink because it’s the only time I can stand it.
I am as tall as a shotgun and just as nosy.
[JW: Can we have a drink?
TC: Oh, we will!]
I can walk soberly while drunk.
The way a cottonmouth rears up…
This huge female bouncer threw me into the street!
Why not remove restrictions and let the people drink good whiskey?
Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. We want two more double margaritas, and I want some ice in my drink, and I want a straight jigger of just pure tequila.
Mick Jagger is about as sexy as a pissing toad.
But I seem to be off the track again.
It is Friday: Go Right Ahead
Why not dine in the library?
I’ll have to have a drink in my bath.
My brain is unalterable as a ball.
And now the children subscribe to judgment.
I am growing meaner by the hour.
Don’t bother with the fixings!
Honey, drink your beer and get me another one.
Like seeing an orange crow.
We did nothing all day long but drink bathtub gin and play solitaire and smile to ourselves and talk to our animals.
..apocryphal glitter, essential doom.
Hey. Don’t take my rum away.