I Would Like To Eat Sometime This Month

New blog is up.
Not my design, mine is horribly flawed (both online and in this filthy reality of ours).
I will continue to toil with the page I made in an effort to fix the millions of bugs/errors in it. I will only do so until Friday because that's when I get paid and when that happens I'm buying $500 worth of groceries and eating, non-stop, until mid-March.

Thank you and go fuck yourself.

WIZARDLY TWO POINT OH MAN I'M GOOD LOOKING

bookmark it, eudich.

Day GAP&FYS

Crashed and burned, baby.
My work environment is not condusive to sobriety, especially not in 12 hour doses.
My boss called me into the liquor room where I was expecting to get fired, turns out he just poured me and Aaron a couple of gin and tonics. After ten or so hours on the front lines of distributing insobriety I wasn't about to refuse. That was the straw that made the camel whack.

No darts though. That shit'll kill you.

Day Three

I'm hungry.
This sucks.
I bought deodourant and that smell went away.
Tom Petty is a dick and so are you.

EDIT: DAY THREE CONT'D

No real big cravings at work.
I got high off chocolate before going in, that lasted a couple of hours.
Another godawful 12 hours tomorrow. oh rapture of joys.

I posted that d.a.r.e. link as a joke but I actually checked out the site and all I can say is as soon as February is over and done with I'm picking up a crate of that Nazi Speed shit. YABA!

-GAP&FYS

Day Two

I think this shit would be a lot more tollerable if i had any food. Since Sunday morning I've had 1 bowl of rice and 1 carrot a day. In about 30 minutes the last of the rice and carrots will be gone.

I had a massive hour long craving to smoke weed after work last night (which is usually when I blaze a gigantic cone) but instead I listened to Tom Petty and fell asleep. That's right, 24 hours sans weed and I've turned into an uber-square. I don't even fuckin' like Tom Petty. Christ!

Darts are gross and I'm glad I've attempted to stop smoking them for the eight billionth time.

Booze, fuck it, I work at a bar and I really don't see it helping any of the 3,500 nightly patrons so I think I can make it one month with out.

I get to work the first of my two twelve hour shifts in an hour. I hate my life and everything about it.

EDIT: DAY TWO CONT'D...

I figured I'd post this while the seething hatred is still ripe in my mind.

Twelve hours in a depraved hell-hole full of shittered 40 year olds isn't the best scenario to experience my bullshit, makeshift rehab in.

I don't think there's any stomache left for my stomache to eat. I did, however, get a free meal at Cheers (one of the countless joys of working a twelve hour shift) and that gave me the pep i needed to ooze around the bar for an eternity and do next to nothing, all the while wishing i was either dead, never born at all, or soon to be killed.

The enmity between myself and sobriety is quite unrelenting. This is usually cause for hours of vehement introspection. And you thought I was down on myself before... man, oh, man.

-Mykes just wanna have fun

The Shortest Month

And as such it's the month I've chosen for my complete detoxification.

No darts, no doobs, no drinks for the entire month.

28 straight days carved from the bedrock of Hell itself.

Place your bets. I give myself until Friday.

-Mykesochist

.44 Smokeless Under My Head

New site is in the works. It's much like a head-bag in the sense that it's chock-full of heady goodnesses. It'll have a blog so you'll always know what I had for breakfast or how often I've had a bowel movement, a section for my photo's (even some new ones... should I ever decide to get my camera fixed), perhaps a rant section so you can all share in my love of conservative minority governments or video lottery terminals and the gelatinous change-purses that pursue them, a bulletin board so you can tell me off in real time (not that the demeaning answering machine messages should stop), and a links page so you can find out about all my favourite shit, like the places where they make meat or personal grooming stores.

That's right the two or three of you lonely jerks that read this, your lives are about to get a whole lot better.

-The Almykety

O Canada, Canada, Canada

We stand on guard for thee, except yesterday, election day, when the majority of us were caught off guard and because of this we now usher in the era of the armed guard. Stephen Harper and his elite team of bible-thumping holy men, second only to God himself, managed to lie their way into forming a Conservative minority government last night during Canada's 39th general election. Perhaps they just rode the tidal wave of corruption from the 12 years of the Liberal's deceit and trechery and coasted into their position under the pretense that any change is a good change; It can't get worse than Martin.

Well it just did.