Archive for the ‘DRUNKENNINGS’ Category

Drunkennings #6: Wasted on Wine

Posted: March 9, 2013 in DRUNKENNINGS
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Hey everybody! It’s been a while. Where the hell you been? Just kidding. That was a joke and I’m the only one laughing (I’m not laughing). Anyway, the party’s been started, you should join in.

Arkham City has been started.

Wine and Rum tonight. Got two bottles of wine from work for freesies. Hooshaw.

My glass is constantly empty. Fut the whack. Might be a short night.

How are you? How you been? What’cha been up to? You online? Wanna chat? I’m AFK, yo. A/S/L? TOTF (Too Old To Function)

Eminem has just the right amount of anger for me. Perfect for drinking, working out, traveling; he’s a regular jack o’all trades. Of course, this means I’m not watching Star Wars right now, however, you may be pleased to know my a-hole is out in full fashion. Even before I started drinking today, I was accused of being an asshole, borderline douchebag, meaning my charm’o'meter was not functioning properly, slash, the person I was interacting with was too damn serious. Sneriously? CTFD (Calm the Fuck Down).

Sometimes I think I do the things I do to convince people that they should not like me, as though I want them not to like me. What’s the point of persecuting yourself? I’m not always the most logical person, much as I like to think otherwise.

Let’s say you’ve been shot 4 times. Do you think after the first time you’d be accustomed to the pain? So by the 4th time, you’re just like “Damn, I’ve been shot again. I’ll just wrap it up real quick cuz I got plans tonight.” I can’t say fo’ sho’, but I like to think that’s how the ball rolls.

I’m not driving tonight, in case you were wondering. In the city we have nonstop designated drivers in the subway system. It’s one of the greatest things about this place. Responsibility = out the window; you just have to swipe your card. I guess you have to make sure you don’t fall on the tracks, but most things happen for a reason… just saying (says the cocky b-stard.)

I have to deal with auto-correct on my phone and now I’m supposed to deal with auto-correct on my blog? I don’t think so. I want the world to know my typos. Tried to auto-correct b-stard to bustard. F that yojo.

Nightwing is kickin’ A, mostly, in case you were wondering. About to either switch to story mode or change to God of War, which I recommend as a game to play if you haven’t already. The series is pretty decent. A few misses, but the hits are amazing.

It’s a little early, but all I wanna do is eat right now. Might be from my workout, or whatever, but I think tonight I might be able to manage eating and drinking and then drinking some more. Kind of have to, because I’m dedicated to Drunkennings.

I recently wrote an article defending heavy drinking for a website that I hope will end up being my first paid writing gig. If it doesn’t, I will post it here. Basically, I called out humans for blaming their problems on the things they abuse rather than themselves for abusing things. It’s easier to blame someone or something else instead of looking at where the true fault lays. (I hope I used that word right.  I think I did. People lie, objects lay, right? True to form, because humans are pathological liars, the lot of us.

Pizza in the oven. Refused to help it.

(Morning Edit: Passed out on the couch with pizza in my mouth. Made a PB&J, somehow got peanut butter everywhere. Passed out in bed with PB&J in my mouth. Overall successful night.)

 

Related articles (Words and Slurs)

Drunkennings #5: Let’s get for-snerious

Posted: February 9, 2013 in DRUNKENNINGS
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Hold on to your sober caps because a new Drunkennings starts in 3, 2, 1: *crsh* Beer-thirty. Okay, now let go of those caps because it kind of defeats the purpose.

Rule #1 of being drunk (which I am not): Do not drunk dial, drunk Facebook, wasted Tweet, or drunk blog (unless you have a website called wordsandslurs.com, which you don’t because it belongs to me. Drunk dialing is really only effective when either you’re the one calling, or both of you are drunk. 3 am is a horrible time to call anyone. Drunk Facebooking leads to being shocked and embarrassed in the morning, and having to delete a bunch of things while hoping that no one saw them (the twelve people who liked it and the eight who commented probably didn’t see anything). Wasted Twitter (a step or two above drunk) is ill-advised simply because of how easy it is to spam Tweets down the throats of your followers on a sober day. Being wasted is like having a blog series where you just write down whatever you’re thinking or feeling while you’re drunk (or getting drunk) and shove it down the throats of your followers. Just don’t. And finally, don’t drunk blog because it’s my thing and I will cut you.

For christmas this year, my sister gave me a pair of pajama pants with gingerbread men on them. Half of them have their heads torn off and it says “Bite Me.” I think they’re awesome and extremely comfortable and I’m wearing them now.

Silence. Silence. Silence. Silence. HA! Silence. Silence. Silence. = Me watching Family Guy.

Arkham City is great, by the way.

After working this food service job, I find that I’m somewhat addicted to multi-tasking. I frequently find something to watch on my computer while I play video games and drink and/or do something else. People ask me if I can honestly focus on everything at once, and I say “Your breath smells of soot and poo, and yes, I can focus on everything. I play the same game all the time, and watch things I’ve already seen or things I don’t really care about.” For example, the other night I was watching a movie on Netflix. It lost my interest, so I whipped out the video games. I still watched the movie, but did I see everything? No. Didn’t miss anything, either. Dumb movie. Lesson here: some movies suck.

HOLY CRAP I just switched games. Going back to some God of War. This is semi-big. Just like….other things…is what she said.

I just laughed at my own joke. That’s our secret, and so help me, if you tell anyone… mmhmm.

Isn’t it crazy how you go back and play your favorite games that when they came out, you thought they looked amazing, but now, they look dated. You don’t really notice the progression of technology, it’s more like things just look better sort of. It’s the comparison that really dates games.

Oh, god. Kratos can roll. Batman cannot. Batman has little spiky dudes above his attackers before they make contact. Kratos does not. — adjustment period.

Stop rolling, damn yoU!

God of War = button mashing, Batman = skills. More or less.

Was just thinking “I need to drink more and faster,” then banged my elbow full-on into the wall and didn’t feel anything…. which confirmed everything? Yes.

You know what God of War and Batman (as games) have in common? Simplicity. The controls are not complicated. A great game has simple controls and an awesome story/environment/story environment. Complicated controls are an attempt to make up for a crappy game. AND WE NOTICE.

The problem with sequels to games is that sometimes you try to do the awesome moves you can do in the sequels, but in the originals, and FAIL. It’s like playing Arkham Asylum and trying to speed grapple, or playing God of War and trying to grapple to enemies and pound them to the floor. Not ON the floor, mind you, TO the floor. Get your mind out of the gutter.

If your mind isn’t perpetually in the gutter, you’re doing it wrong…. I’m doing it wrong.

For the love of the gods, STOP ROLLING!

You know, if my current statistics mean anything, it shows that the Drunkennings series isn’t all that popular. I’d consider discontinuing it, but for such a small readership and for the fact that my website is called WordsandSLURS (the drunken type) leads to shove it all somewhere for a rainy day. You guys sort of like the Disturbed Personas series, and really seem to like the blog posts where I talk about something very briefly. Those factors considered, at almost 800 words, not many people will actually finish reading this post.

If I insult you, it’s only to get a rise out of you. To encourage discourse. It doesn’t seem to work. Well, what you.

Have you read the latest Disturbed Personas? #4? There’s a lot of naughty words. Non-sexual kind. Seriously, you’re depraved.

I miss Arkham.

The best part about getting drunk and posting things on the internet/texting or doing anything is seeing it in the morning, or being told about it, and having little to no memory of doing it. Really, the absolute best part is the whole “REALLY?!” aspect on your part.

Getting drunk and reading about it later really just affirms how crazy you are.

Speaking of which, I never edit Drunkennings. I edit as I go, and anything I don’t catch, well, sucks to your assmar.

Shut up!

I want the stamina of a video game character. They get sliced and diced how many times before they die. One hit kill games suck le balls. They’re not fun. I want a health bar, basically.

Kratos, your sternocleidomastoid is showing. Bahaha.

So 30 Rock is over. I started watching this season, but the early episodes around the election really upset me. Relevance is one thing, beating me over the head with a rubber club is another. If I wanted election coverage, I’d find a way to watch CNN (I don’t have cable). Sounds like it got better. I kind of know what happens because I like them on Facebook.

Excuse me, I have a griffin to beat the crap out of. DIE, you whore!, but don’t die because you’re a whore, die because you crossed me one too many times (in this case, once). Whores are peeps too.

Also, Peeps are disgusting and I don’t know why they’re still manufactured.

I’m not drunk, per say, but my Facebooking is hi-fraking-larious right now. Toot Toot.

I just saw something about writer’s anxiety. Here’s the thing (for me): I don’t have anxiety about writing. I love writing, and I’m going to write whatever the hell I want. If no one reads it, I don’t really care. I don’t write for other people, and I don’t necessarily care if I can make money at it. I write because it makes me happy. To me, the happiness is payment enough, and anything after that is a bonus check (a very highly taxable bonus check).

DAMMIT Facebook, stop autocorrecting my typos. They’re intentional, damn you!

Kratos, you and I are going to have a serious problem if you don’t stop rolling around every two seconds.

Okay, so I quit Kratos and ran crying back to Arkham. At least I went to Asylum. Batman just knows how I like it, and Kratos doesn’t have access to the Joker by Mark Hamill. LOOOOOOOOOOVE it.

Batman vs. glass windows: Oh no you didn’t.

Anyway, g2g and all that snacks,

you made it this far, You’re Welcome (such an arrogant prick am I.)

:)

Drunkennings #…what are we on? 4? 5? Pick a number, any number.

Posted: February 1, 2013 in DRUNKENNINGS
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Welcome to tonight’s episode of Drunkennings, where we take a road trip from Point A to Drunksville, PA, where I have never been. I drove through PA once, mostly in college (PA also stands for Performing Arts….suck it). There’s a sidetrip to Clevertown in the works as well, but we might only hit the outskirts of that place. It’s not up to me. If it is to be, it is up to me… (unholy hell, it’s been a week.) Come with me.

I think all extremist views are bullshit, because when you think so strongly about a subject, you have blinded yourself to compromise and change. No other view will be good enough, and you know what happens when you get landlocked into that kind of hogwash? Trouble. Trouble happens. Have a strong opinion, but be willing to see the other side of the argument. It’s called perspective. GET SOME.

On that note, I never want to hear someone use the argument “You’re such a guy” or “You do that because you’re a men.” or “All men are pigs” or “Every problem in the world originates from men.” (Swap the necessary words for women, children, and donkeys, but not crabs.) That is crazy talk, and the world needs to tune that shit out.

“Here comes the sun, do do do do”

I know someone who is training to be a ninja. I don’t want to be a ninja, I want be Batman. But not really Batman, because Batman is like KACHOW, meaning he’s EXPLODING with muscles. I’d rather be like Nightwing, Dick Greyson-style. Lean, limber, mean, compassionate, sensitive…..wait, am I describing Nightwing or the typical Chelsea-dweller? Anyway, my point is that I don’t condone killing. That being said, I would love to have a sword. I’d like to say one hand would have a sword and the other would have a gun, but because I don’t like killing and the a-holes of the world are trigger happy these days, I’m nixing the gun. The sword will probably be backup, but I will kick your ass without it, and you. shall. know. FEAR. Take a lesson from the Scarecrow, boys.

Hey, there. hi. Did you know that I’m now certified in CPR/AED whatever? It just happened today. How does that make you feel? Do you feel safe when you’re on the verge of death, knowing that I have the certification to save you? Do you mind if I laugh at your condition a little before I save you? I promise I’ll save you, but you know, schadenfreude the shit out of that situation….. I don’t mean that.

Jeepers, I might have to slow down. I feel like it’s only been 2o minutes max, and I’m sucking ‘em down like air. Happy birthday….to someone….somewhere. Idk, leave me alone.

DON”T GO!

Lesson #1: before you drink, open your beer. “nuff said.

“Hey, do you guys have air here?” “No, but we have beer; studies show it’s just as good as air, maybe better.” “Yeah, I’ll just take the ethanol.” -wait, what?

The Penguin is like “You can’t take down 30 guys at once,” and Batman is like “Screw off, wanker, yes I can.” Batman = Obama. !!! Revelation. Batman is British.

I’m not so good at asking people questions. Or general conversation. “How are you?” “Good.” (awkward silence during which I think of 5 things I want to say to this person) “Well have a nice day.” “You too!” *They walk away.* Internal dialogue: “DAMN DAMN DAMN DAMN DAMN!” Almost every time.

I find being around other writers very comforting. Yesterday I was in a horrible moo-d (like a cow) and a writer friend (we’re pretty good friends based on the conversations that occur in my head) came in to the gym and just his presence was calming and endorphin-releasing for me. It was brilliant. Bottom line, if you’re a writer and my club is your gym, please let me know. I don’t expect you to help me get published, but your presence is soothing for me, and that’s enough, especially on a really rough day. Thank you.

SQUIRREL!

HA! I, as Batman, just took you down to non-sexual Funkytown.

I frequently run into the problem of not saying what I really want to say at the proper time. Example: the other day I wanted to say “Thanks for last night; I had a really great time and I think you’re awesome!” but instead I said “(insert chirping cricket)”. As soon as the person left, I openly said “This is past the point where I say (insert aforementioned wishful saying). My introvertedness is a real silver sliver sometimes.

Mr Freeze! I release you from your human bonds. – Batman + Pirates of the Caribbean = I’d love to be watching Star Wars.

I received a couple appreciations today regarding my writing work. One friend said the play I wrote was very enjoyable, and another friend said they like my post. Vindication is amazing. It’s like, I love writing and I will do it no matter what anyone says, but a little acknowledgement goes a shit-ton long-type way.

WHORE! – how great is shouting that word for no reason?

I knew this would happen, and that’s why I drank so fast. I woke up at 5 am, and now my body is rejecting being awake. My time here is limited. This is probably my last beer. I also know that when I get a craving for food, I’m basically done, because nothing can stop me from eating and eating and eating until I finally pass out.

This cake batter tastes like pudding. Apparently it’s made with pudding. No eggs, though, because I like to eat cake batter straight up sometimes. Goodnight and you’re welcome.

Drunkennings #3: Madness sets in

Posted: January 27, 2013 in DRUNKENNINGS
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You know, this really should be episode 4 of Drunkennings, because the details of Thursday night are hazy, and I felt crappy enough this morning to justify it. However, I do remember working very hard to wade through my rum-clouded mind  to come up with a decently coherent post. Even if I didn’t succeed in my endeavor, the effort alone disqualifies the post from lofty perch that is Drunkennings status, as does the fact that the post was far too narrow in topic.

I started this post last night. It didn’t go well. I went to bed sad, upset, and way too sober. Never again.

Sometimes when I drink, I develop a British accent. Then again, I tend to do the same thing when I’m sober. It gets really awkward when I encounter an actual British person. Some of them laugh at the silly American who dreams of having a real accent of his own. I think one of them felt violated.

To echo today’s earlier post, I think we as United States-ians forget that “Republican” and “Democrat” are ideas, like Batman. Ideas don’t make decisions, people do. Ideas can’t be corrupted, but people can. I think that speaks a lot to our society. Bruce Wayne abandons himself to become Batman, an idea. I hope to be able to do the same.

Everything I want to say right now is spiteful. I’ve typed a few things in and deleted them because I don’t want to be spiteful.

Antibacterial anything is shit. Cow utter shit. You wanna know why this year’s flu season is borderline epidemic? Antibacterial everything. We did this to ourselves, by which I mean you, because I hate that pig feces. So, Fuck you. That is, unless you think as I do, maybe act as I do, and probably are me. Me, me, me.

Can we go back, for a minute, to the fact that I failed in my Drunkennings endeavor last night? WHAT THE SHIT. There aren’t enough expletives for me to express how I feel about that. Not only did I fail to get drunk, but I failed to post, and that is the biggest insult. Not nearly as bad as Thursday night, when I woke up at 1:15 to find a mostly eaten piece of chicken sitting next to me on my bed. I didn’t question why it was there, I just finished eating it and got ready for actual bed.

I’m pretty sure my parents, if they still read my blog, should just ignore my Drunkennings series. I can see it going to places that parents shouldn’t have to go with their children. Black Hills, yes; Drunkennings, no.

Does anyone know why Arleen Sorkin didn’t voice Harley Quinn in Arkham City? The girl who did the voice did a nice job, but for whatever small reason I can’t name right now, you could tell it wasn’t the originator of the role. I’ll be re-googling this later.

I like how video games always hide humongous items behind the character’s back. Out of sight, out of mind….except not really. Where does Kratos shove the Blade of Olympus, and where does Catwoman hide that bola?

Whenever I start to eat after drinking, I know I’m almost done. Generally, though, whenever I start eating, I’m just about done doing whatever I thought I might want to do.

If you bake a potato, do you get high too, or does the cooking of the potato weed out the getting high part? These are things you should be thinking about.

My body truly is a wonderland: I kick, headbutt, and punch things on a daily basis.

American Horror Story: you should be watching it. You’re welcome.

Drunkennings #2: Waiting for a download that never ends…

Posted: January 20, 2013 in DRUNKENNINGS
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My night out ended earlier than expected, so here I am doing what I do. Let’s drink and settle in for EPISODE 2, bitches! (strikethrough bitches, add in “lovely people who I greatly respect and admire”)

What’s that? Oh, Arkham City is great. I love playing it. I’m downloading the God of War: Ascension beta right now, but it’s taking forever and I can’t wait that long.

Party foul?! I just spilled my drink trying to get up to turn the volume on the tv down (I don’t have a remote; I get my lazy bum out of the chair….which really sucks sometimes). No big deal except that some of it got on Kenobi (my compy). It’s basically just rum and water, so no sticky mess, and I gave much extra attention to the poor guy. He seems okay. It’s not the first time something like this has happened. Last time was soda, right after I’d gotten him, and it wasn’t me who fouled.

I basically ate an entire jar of peanut butter today. It’s a small jar? Supposed to get 14 servings out of it, so I guess I got the American serving. Maybe I should see if McDonald’s will deliver, too. What the hell, right? >:S Peanut butter isn’t even a nut. It’s a LEGUME! What kind of crap is that?

Women: what would happen if you hoohoo started monologuing for real? Would you be freaked out? I would be freaked the frack out, but also interested in what it had to say.

I have my respectable shoes on right now, but it sounds like I have my asshole shoes on. The weird part is that I’m not actually wearing any shoes at all.

Speaking of shoes, I need new shoes for both work and everyday. I told my boss I was going to wear bunny slippers to work from now on, and she didn’t mind. Then I said that they were going to be Emo bunnies with one ear hanging down over an eye, and they were going to be black slippers and awesome. Then I decided that these slippers should probably be Stompeez. Only at that point did my boss shoot me down. I should contact the manufacturer of those slippers and tell them that I want black Emo bunny slippers for work. Which means they’ll have excellent traction.

“Lookout, he’s got a Nug!” “It’s a Gun, you idiot!”  -Anyone remember that episode of Frasier? He was having a Murder Mystery party over at Nile’s swanky digs, and the ordeal proved to be a wee bit frustrating for the old chap. Oh dear, I fear I’ve gone British. Cheerios, cheerios. (A reference to an episode of “The Nanny,” in which Fran complains to Mr. Sheffield about the British always talking about cereal before they leave a room.)

I may watch too much TV. But you do too much of something, too, so quit nagging me. I say QUIT!

“How does Catwoman survive in a place like this?” How do any of us survive in any place? One day at a time. Hash tag: Arkham City.

“Drunkennings” (Drunk Happenings) #1

Posted: January 18, 2013 in DRUNKENNINGS
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Oh boy, it’s the post I’ve been waiting for all week. It’s time to enact the “slurs” part of the website, where I, Aaron, get drunk and post whatever comes to mind. I saved this for a weekend in an attempt to appear responsible, but there’s not a whole lot of responsibility going on right now, so I don’t know what I was thinking. A warning: my censor radar is probably going to get turned off, so let’s label this post as NSFW, and NSFC (where the C stands for “Children”, and is used broadly). The post will be edited later to fix typos and assorted garble so you get the best drunk me possible. You’re welcome…

Have you ever watched “My Drunk Kitchen”?  I’ll link to the first episode for you. It’s pretty funny. Get’s a little rough towards the middle of the first season, and the second season was too produced for me, so I quit watching. But it used to be quite good. Might be again, I don’t know, just watch the damn video. And be sure to come back. From the YouTube:

I just realized that I embedded the video, so you never left. Or maybe you left, but decided “what the hell” and came back. Whatevs. Anyway, the reason I mentioned the “My Drunk Kitchen” is because that’s kind of what this new series of bloggings is like (it’s a series now, hence the #1 in the title and the individual category). SQUIRREL!

I’m pretty sure a few of my coworkers are going to stage an intervention for me soon, because they think I get obliterated every night. My reputation for drinking has officially gotten out of hand, which some might say is awesome. I know I talk about how much I love drinking (rum especially), and I frequently get a craving for rum before 9 am, but I never said I get wasted every night. Do I have a drink or three most every night? Yes. Drunk? No. Four beers does not a drunkie make. Four beers is a relaxer. Two very strong rum and whatevers is also a relaxer. P.S. there is no such thing as a weak drink in my book. There are good drinks, and there are drinks with no alcohol in them.

Are you people reading my shit? Because I feel like the standard response when you read something is to like it. And if you don’t like it, maybe you should think about commenting about that which you do not like. I can’t please you unless I get some feedback. Standard Facebook rules apply.

Also, are you recommending me to your friends and neighbors and neighbors’ neighbors? I would love if you did. Facebook neighbors count. I can do a lot of things by myself, but a little support is always welcome. A pat on the back is out of the question on account of I don’t like to be touched, but a sly finger point a la the Fonzie warrants a nod in your direction from across the room. Damn we are cool people.

Who the hell is Drun Kennings and why is he on my blog? Maybe it’s supposed to be Drum, but the second hump of the “m” got cut off. Or maybe it was supposed to be Kat Dennings. That’s possible. She’s kind of a big deal right now, what with that show she’s on that I’ve never watched. I assume she’s delightful to watch.

Why would you say “for God sakes” when it makes more sense to say “for God’s sake”?

I claim that I post every day, so I feel pressured to post this before midnight. I’d like to clarify that I work a 9-5 type job, which is why I don’t post earlier. I get up early and am on the go until God knows when, at which point I get to blogging. I’m pretty sure that I’ve pressured myself into drinking faster so that I can post the really good drunk shit before midnight. Eastern time. I’m from Central time, but when it comes to bloggging once a day, central time can kiss my grisly bear, whose name is Cherabadee. I didn’t pick it, she did. Cherabadee Saint Patrick Yun Williamsonheimer. I said, “why don’t you just go by Fred,” but she got all defensive and talked about her people and pride and heritage and whatever. So I said, “you’re not even real. you’re a part of my overactive imagination. You have no heritage.” Well, she’s still crying, and I feel bad about it, but what can you do. I’ll drink to that. Yup.

Cut short, like the life before you; this post must end. Till old impatience meets cheap whine, and maze of old crazed twine. Goodnight.