damned if you do, damned if you dont....

what the fuck.
my tooth is killing me.
and so is my dignity.
and my ankle.
oh and not to mention.
my neck.
and my back.

i have no idea what i did this weekend.
but by the looks of my hair.
that bottle of Jose.
and my bank account.
i had fun.
alot of fun?

friday started off weird and ended even stranger.
i remember waking up that morning.
and saying to myself.
"dont fuck this up"
i hated what i wore to work.
and drank way to much coffee.
i got home and cleaned my house.
and trimmed my tree.
and drank tequila like it was going out of style.
and then i hit the streets blazing.

i thought to myself.
dont drink to much.
dont talk to loud.
dont punch any bitches in the face.
doin how i do.
keeping in true lp fashion.
i drank way to much.
talked far to loud.
and almost.
but did not.
yet was close.
punch any bitches in their face.

good girl.

i did.
and shout.
and dance.
and talk shit.

and ended my night.
crying into the arms of a beautiful woman.
speaking of.
ive been twisting words around in my head.
trying to piece together.
how exactly to say things.
and i think its as simple as
just saying, yes.
and thank you.
and i know.
i know that this is it.
and its all silly.
and we are all amazing.
but there are a few.
who are spectacular.
and despite and the hustle and bustle.
and angst and jealously.
at the end of the day.
bygones are bygones.
and both of those bygones are bitches.
and both of those bitches are.

then there was saturday.
which started off awesome.
and went straight to awkward.
then to outrageous.
and ended up terriblehorribleokay.

8 am comes around.
and i wipe off the club.
and put on the daughter.
because my father.
and lil sister were stopping by for a visit.
my sister was coming home for break.
and thought it would be a great idea
to swing by sissies house.
half past dark thrirty in the morning.

so i drag my hangover out of bed.
and hold down my vomit for a few hours.
we go to breakfast.
i fucking love my fam.
i sit at across from my father.
who i look just like.
and he makes me smile.
and i realize that i love him.
and he loves me.
and i am lucky.
because he looks great for 46.
and i will look that great, if not better at his age.
because i got good genes.
and black dont crack.
and Mcleans does not have the biggest breakfast in town.

he drops me off.
gives me some money.
which is great.
cuz a nigga is broke.
and drives he Cadillac into the sunrise.

that was nice.

and then you know.
i piddled around.
burned a few.
watched tropic thunder for the 20,000 time.

night falls.
and we prepare to go over to dinner.
with friends.
his friends.
and they are sweet.
i was nervous.
because im awkward and weird.
and i drank too much red wine.
and laughed.
and dropped things.
and im sure i said something stupid.
oh and drank too much red wine.

we got home.
and i threw up a few times.
and i passed out.
i woke up to
one of the worst drunken delirious daze ever possible.
which events i will divulge later.
i think im still in shock and awe.
and anger and disgust.
i cant even talk about it now.
still hurts.

oh but i will.
i will talk about it.
you can bet on that.


was nothing special thank god.
i slept in.
i watched football.
ate food.
took naps.
and im sure there was a bj.
or something in the middle there.
but by then.
it was all a blur.

and now.
heres monday.
and we start again.
and i am so sleepy.
and so sore.
and i feel like i went to hell and back this weekend.
and all i got was this lousy blog.

oh well.


Brie said...

i hate going to work in an outfit i'm not feeling, dude. that just starts a day off WRONG.

sounds like quite an explosive weekend?