boozer, please.

Rum, especially cheap rum of which I like to call the Rico Suave Rum, has its way of making you feel downright shitty, plainly noted. Not the typical hangover conditions, no, I'm talking about the feeling that your sub-concious spiraled off into an alternate universe, making you feel as though, yes, you've done fucked up.

I curse that damn rum, I curse any rum for that matter, but alas... I will never drink vodka in copious amounts ever again. Rum, out of the two, is considerably safer. I don't break things in the sense that I did when I used to be devoted to drinking vodka when I drank; Instead, with rum, I just break my own heart.

Mumble, mumble.

However, it was the first time in a long time that my best friend willingly hung out without ditching later, which is what he's prone to do nowadays. Controlling girlfriends are a bitch in any friendship. Thank goodness I am not one to say that I am a control freak of my significant others(at least that's what I hope). We did a lot of listening of older music, music of which that made me laugh. Oh yes, I'm referring to 90s dance pop CDs that I spent hours looking for one fateful night back when I lived in Saginaw (hey, it's either that or join a gang. Your choice.). Did I mention that Dave insisted that we find "MMBop" on the dreadful and resourceful internet? Yeah, I'm not kidding. Wish I was.
He tried to push me later that night in playing the guitar for him, but I'm far too shy to show the Rockstar of Supposed Grand Rapids my sketchy key skills. Put a piano infront of me, and I'll play for hours. I prefer to play the guitar in my private time, teaching myself stubbornly until, by George, I think I'm up to something and I think it's right.

I do recall picking up my phone and almost dialing a number at four in the morning, but that would've been catastrophic to the sleeping patterns of the other party. Stupid drunk dialing. Stupid. It sucks, because the things you so desperately think of day to day, things of which you want the answers to, you usually get the guts to ask when drinking is involved. Rum, like many liquors and/or ridiculous, extravagant amounts of beer, creates a "fancy" memory loss mechanism. I'm such a wuss.

Although, I did manage to steal "The Doors" from Dave's room and, in turn, passed out watching that, all the while mouthing the lines. It puts me to ease. I love that damn movie. It's as if it's my cinematic form of a pacifier if and/or whenever I'm throwing a theoretical tantrum.

"It's all just a dream, Jimmy. That's all that it is."
Amen, Mom In Movie.