Like, we're both into publishing, the internet, youth culture, pink, tearjerker movies and while I never actually read her favorite chick-lit beach book, I Am Charlotte Simmons,but I totally loved Wolfe's other bookDiary of a Mad Bride, so like, same thing.
Oh, I can so see it now. We're gonna like full-on relate about being hot and semitic in the magazine world and how people should just grow up and get over their problems with our armhair. We don't complain about you being all fat and ugly do we?
I mean, at least not to your face.
Whateva - me and 'Toos are tots gonna be BFFs! This is gonna be AWSOME!! FALLOUTBOY!!!
Look, don't get me wrong, I love booze (beer in particular) and I love my friends (thems what buys me beer in particular), but I'm actually getting tired of the central activity of meeting up with them being booze (or frooze for that matter.)
Let me re-phrase - I'm tired of being a drinker around people I like.
Isn't there something, I dunno, icky about saying, "let's go get a drink sometime" in the same way that you used to say, "wanna come over to my place and play G.I. Joe"? I don't know about you, but I think I in particular need a little air between me and that.
Now, again, don't get me wrong. I'm no problem drinker. Time was, I was a pro-drinker (witness me in the twilight years of a storied career.) But there has been sharp decline of local chums as of late. Sigh... if only my friends were bad Doctors of Philosophy or never married their nice, rich doctor husbands, then they'd all still be licking Red Hook off the floor of The Twizzie instead of living hither and yon.
Losing my neighborhood beer league means I'm woefully out of practice when it comes to downing pints. I mean, at this rate I'm only drunk like twice a week - I mean can you imagine?
When I do get my drink on, its generally with the wonderful folks I like to call the Downtown Contingent. You know damn well who you are and you know dawn well that you all live on the wrong side of the river. Love y'all as I do and greatful for your love, this old man can't truck himself through Peter Kalikow's Maze of Death a couple of hours each way without some ill effects.
So we're trying this as an experiment - because the social lubricants aren't helping me slip and slide around as much as they used to and between friends and beer, I'll take friends, I'm gonna try "getting a drink" without actually drinking.
Yes, that asshole sipping water - yeah, that's gonna be me from now until New Year's - call it an Old Year's Resolution if it makes you happy.
So, be nice. Understand if I'm a little less moody and more restrained than normal and don't give me no funny looks when I light up a joint at Boat, okay?
Diamond wars! Sex death-plagues. Madonna babynaps. Genocide. Gold mine pirates fighting an underground battle against the police! When the 6:30 news reads like G.I. Joe, who wouldn't Want to Be African? Seriously, though - donate.
