Eh-Hrm.

Hm.

Well.

Okay, this is awkward.  We’re well into the second week of December which means, by my calculations, I’ve posted nothing in just over a month.  This is, of course, due to the inherent difficulty in writing about getting drunk: it encourages me to shirk responsibility by… getting drunk.

“But Don Julian, Hemingway did it!” Well, if Hemingway shot himself in the face with a shotgun, would you? (HINT: He did; you didn’t).  The truth of the matter is that I’d love more than anything to be able to write while inebriated, but it’s just not in my drunk skill set.  See chart:

Things in my drunk skill set: eating — dancing — getting drunker — sleeping — freestyle rapping — talking to people that scare me — karaoke — writing texts that are terrible ideas.

Things not in my drunk skill set: operating heavy machinery — writing anything that I am supposed to have put effort into — being pregnant — freestyle rapping (I lied before) — accurately assessing how much money I have available to spend on drinks.

So as you can see, any attempt to write whilst drinking is generally derailed by a frozen pizza, a dance marathon, or a text that reads something like, “booty now you h3re?;; OH YES”.

Of course, I’m not saying I’ve given up on having fun.  I’m just making a promise to organize my time a bit better.  After all, it’s the holiday season and now more than ever should I be giving you all the gift of silly stories, snarky suggestions, and reviews of booze that never should have seen the light of day.

But before I do that, I need someone to lay down a beat so I can spit a couple hot verses.  No, really, I have mad flow when I’m drunk!  Bro, I’m serious!

~Don Julian

"I can also rub my belly while I pat my drunk."

Leave A Response