Aqua Vitae
>> Friday, April 30, 2010
My kitchen counter after a productive week....As you can see, and as any true friend of mine could tell you, I am partial to the whisky. Water of fucking Life.
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Go bro go
>> Thursday, April 29, 2010
The smell
That salt air
Calming
Soothing
I catch the scent
All day long
I need it
That cool shock
The thrill
Of feet leaving
Dry land
Stepping into
A different world
Stepping into liquid
The surf wax fills my nose
There is nothing
Between me and
The continents
But the ancient
Of ancients
This abyss
My board slides through
The glass
I need this
My daily baptism
My constant redemption
It keeps
The demons at bay
I look back to the shore
That other world
I smile
Im safe
For now
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hello friend.....
Fuckin outta control. not enough beers in the world. Not enough at all. Ignore the fear. Ignore the worry and apprehension. The juice is worth the squeeze. Always. Who the fuck wants to be 90? Shitting my pants in some VA hospital while some young kid pretends to care. I was that kid once. 19 years old and wiping the ass of some cranky old vet. God, how we come full circle. Just waiting to get off work so I could have a few beers and a pizza with my friends. Who knew that temporary pleasure would turn into a medicinal therapy into a necessary evil. Addiction? HA! hardly. Fucking part or life. Everyone is addicted to something. Wether it love, booze, smack, fucking, fast food, strippers, church, or the gym; we are all slaves to some master. At least I am friends with mine. Old friends. A true friend, the bottle doesn't leave me. Doesn't fight with me. Doesn't judge me. Is ALWAYS there when I need it. We should all be so lucky to have such good friends. I am content with my friend.
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Lunchtime
>> Sunday, April 25, 2010
Bottle of good bourbon. 49.95. The label claims its from a single barrel poured on 22 March by hand from barrel #377, and rated at 93 proof. A lot of words that equals me embracing that wave of pleasure. Delicious. Can't stop listening to obscure late 90s punk rock. Sounds of my youth. Memories flash with every burning sip. Amazing, the powers of recollection when the fire of such good booze burns deep. My gods, has it been that long? I feel like I am looking at a slideshow of laughter, awkward sexual encounters, blind friendships, and unrelenting hopes. Such good whiskey. Smooth, hints of vanilla and coffee. I can almost smell that desert air. See that ambition, FEEL that earnest of wants and desire. So stupid. So trusting. Random girl in the passenger seat of my truck. Who is she? Doesn't matter, she is a reoccurring character who is always played by a different actress. You know, like the wife from Fresh Prince. Well, except young and white and attractive. Fuck. Damn good hootch. if this was lunch, what could ever be for dinner?????
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