Well, 2017 has passed us by like a fart in the wind.
This is going to be a different post from some of the more recent ones- because as I write this I am pretty good and drunk off of some bourbon and just finished reading an updated version of that short story that got me in some hot water with my former high school.
Oh, to be 18 and dumb again.
Time has moved on. And like some coy mistress it has moved on never to be seen again. The past remains in the back of our minds, unable to be accessed as clearly as we hope. And though our photos and videos do their best to retain the images we saw, nothing can fully capture the way the time felt on our skin, pressed throughout our breath, or pushed out of our assholes.
See? I can still be vulgar even when I'm being somewhat poetic.
I don't know man- I'm sitting here at 1:14am January 2nd contemplating the strangeness of life itself and the fact of the matter that my college experience is over in a few, short months with just 1 semester remaining.
It's absurd to me that high school still feels like a few moments ago and Matt McCann was stealing the papier-mache Llama out of the building to put on the football field in the back view of our graduation ceremony.
It's absurd to me that the dizzying, confusing moments of those early months of college are so far back, and that such a sense of unknowing hasn't been felt in a long time.
I told you- this is a very different blog from before.
But guess what, it's my fucking blog so eat my cock. Let me have my moment online.
I'm not sure if the heat is on in my room or not because I slowly. but surely, feel my fingers getting stiffer as this progresses. Maybe its early-onset arthritis.
I'm not sure if any of you have ever had Booker's bourbon, but to give you an explanation its 62.95% alcohol by volume and every sip of it feels like you're being punched in the roof of your mouth by Satan himself.
My God is it delicious.
I just took another swig and immediately felt the life return to the edges of my fingertips. If you are reading this, you are basically reading a human being turn into a full-fledged alcoholic.
I literally feel the front of my brain getting warmer.
I don't know whats happening.
Bookers.
Bookers.
Anyway, 2017 was a wild ride. I ended my longest ever relationship (just shy of 1 year), shaved off my beard, worked as a camp counselor, completed both the hardest ever and the easiest ever semesters of my life, thought I contracted an STD (we good though), formulated an addiction to alcohol, and smoked anywhere from 75-100 cigars.
I'd call that a pretty solid year.
But, I'll be honest in saying that this past year felt empty. It missed that 'turning point' in my life where I felt as though something had progressed through my time being alive. Other than deciding I wanted to be a stand up comedian, there's just a particular pivotal moment that summed up this year.
Every year marked at least 1 thing cool happening to me, or something wild going on.
This past year was a little lackluster in that regard, I guess.
Except for maybe that time my house made it onto the New York Times/News 12 NJ/The internet for a shooting. But, whatever.
I actually hosted NYE again this year, like a fucking idiot. Maybe now that I'm done with my nonsensical ramblings, I'll get to a story worth reading about.
Is anyone still here? Hello?
Alright, so last year you may recall NYE was an absolute SHIT SHOW.
I had to run the entire thing: security, sanitation, etc. and it basically took years off of my life. At 12:30 I kicked everybody out and there were SO many people who were SO fucking hammered, it took 2 hours for everyone to leave.
Finally, at 2:30, I lit up a cigar and sat on my porch, relaxing.
Then, some kid comes out of nowhere and proceeds to tell me the attic of my house was basically an orgy filled with at least a dozen people having sex and that he just left said orgy after having sex with a girl whose name he didn't remember.
This was last year.
This year, however, I had the party at my house but had other entities host it. My plan was to sit back, drink some bourbon, light up a few cigars and have a relaxing evening.
It did not go accordingly.
Around 11:30, my Token Black Friend, who had told me all day "I don't throw up, brother," started vomiting intensely out of the window.
I look over and see this man's giant ass hanging over the interior side of the window, and everyone else in the living room like, "is he alive?'
Sadly, he was.
Only a few moments later, some other asshole was so fucking drunk he couldn't SIT UP. I had to deal with this asshole so I didn't have to worry about a manslaughter charge.
It was at this moment the ball dropped.
I missed the fucking ball drop.
Fuck you, dude.
Fuck.
Immediately following this, my sister calls me in DIRE need of a hand, as her drunk ass came from mid-fuck-nowhere-ville New Brunswick and needed a helping hand,
Eventually, I got that drunk fuck an Uber and with a few minutes to spare, ended up enjoying the limited amount of time left in my New Years night.
The rest was spent having sex with some broad who might one day enter the porn industry by the name Samantha Sanders.
To be determined.
Hopefully not, though, for her sake.
Jesus Christ, this Bookers is so strong. You could literally burn the barnacles off of a ship with this. You could actually set a human being on fire with this. This doesn't even feel like liquor, it just feels like poison.
I love it.
Essentially, I learned that NEXT year, my ass will be spending the New Year either completely alone, or with the presence of a few gentlemen who enjoy smoking cigars and acting like divorced 50-year old men as much as me.
Looking back on this, this is quite an incredible ride of a blogpost.
Well, enjoy it cocksuckers. Because the near future has me busy as fuck. Next week I start bartending classes which'll carry on into the beginning of my next/last semester of college.
I'm not quire sure how much leisure time I'll have to be writing blog posts, since I'm trying to get started on some other shit.
Essentially, I'm sitting around in my underwear playing call of duty- but I am trying to do other, more beneficial things.
Stand up comedy is still a thing and I'll be pursuing that full on starting this year.
The movie script thing is still slowly working its way into fruition.
The second book is finished and still needs a fucking piece of shit literary agent to get it published- but maybe this year will finally yield the asshole nice enough to make it happen.
Schools almost over.
I'm a drunk.
Women are annoying.
It's 2018.
I've had this god damn website for almost 7 years.
Thanks for sticking around, my loyal fans.
To leave you all, here is a picture of a chicken.
Happy New Year.
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