Friday, July 18, 2008

and please don't tell me to switch from 7-up to club soda & lime--you think i haven't done that already?

[text]

the effect: posting's been a little light this week.

the cause: i've been a little sober this week.

when i write drunk, it's usually at least train-wreck interesting. when i write sober--if in that sorry state i can be moved to write at all--the result generally isn't anything anybody in their right mind wants to slog their way through (except maybe noblesavage, but that's only if he's in the mood for a mercy fuck).

consequently, i haven't posted since monday--or wanted to, for that matter.

so why have i cut back on my drinking, you ask?

i wish i could say it was because of healthy concern for my psychic and spiritual well-being, or maybe outta simple concern for my liver.

but that would be a lie.

truth is, when it comes to self-destruction i've always been a quick study. and even though i didn't commence my serious drinking until fairly late in life, my tolerance for alcohol has rapidly increased to the point that it currently takes at least ten ounces (i.e. ten shots; i.e. a thousand calories' worth) of vodka to even start to fuck me up to the point that i feel even halfway human enough to write something--and that's just the warm-up.

so basically, my choice has come down to the following: get drunk four-five times a week, post prolifically and be fat, or get drunk maybe twice a week, post sparingly and be thin.

i'm a fag in los angeles--which one do you think i picked?

[acknowledgements: this post could not have been written without the invaluable assistance of olivia newton-john's let me be there (which i had forgotten i hadn't heard in at least 30 years until i happened to drunkenly remember it tonight) endlessly looping in the background. thank you, livvie--and thank you, limewire.]

6 comments:

LMB said...

Yeah - know what you mean. Only different. (It's me, ferdacrissakes!) When I am stable - apartment, money, material possesions - I get lethargic and I don't feel like writing. But, when I am moving and experiencing the world hands on (And I mean VERY hands on.) the creative juices squirt out all over the page!
I too am bored and getting a fine layer of jelly like growth on my stomach - but, I have decided to hit the road, Jack and live the life that so few dare not tred.
Wanna come?

Anonymous said...

Hmmm....Just relax and it will go in so much easier.

You posted this at a way too early time -- barely past midnight. I would have waited and seen what would have come from your second wind/deepening buzz.

Seriously though, my own experience has been that this is all a process. So, the stuff that took an enormous amount of truth serum to squeeze out of me the first time does come out a little easier the next time and so on until I can do it sober if I concentrate.

Have you tried to write about something sober? What has come out? Perhaps something pretty bland because you get worked up emotionally when you are shitfaced.

When I write (usually not for the whole world to see -- or the six or seven of the guttermorality regular readers more accurately), I then will take a look at it sober and a while later and it helps me get in the space I was before and understand what I was feeling but from a different angle.

Finally, a suggestion: Fuck the waist. As a gay man in LA over 50, you would be MUCH more attractive if you had a very thick wallet.*









*Is that too honest/mean? I always try to gauge. It seemed a little tough for your mood, but not too bad. Feedback appreciated.

Anonymous said...

50?!?!? You're 50?!?!?!

Damn.

I should probably 'fess up and let both you and The Savage One know I've dumped your asses for a 21 year old twink.

What can I say? I love gay men. It's that we have the whole "love the penis" thing in common. :)*

*Yes, the twink is fully aware that I've dubbed him my 'hot, gay boyfriend' and he accepts it. He shares his candy (I mean the sugary kind, pervs) with me.

But I still have a soft spot for both of you.

I'm fully aware that this has nothing to do with the blog post.

Sue me.

mkf said...

luis: this is true--despite all your futile attempts at stability, i've always noted that you're happiest when you're dancing on the razor's edge of uncertainty and chaos reigns.

in this life, there's inside cats and there's outside cats; you, my friend, are an outside cat like no other i know, and you probably always will be. and you know what? there's worse things to be--far worse.

[and if i thought for a second that such an adventure would cheer me up even a little bit, i'd go with you in a heartbeat. alas, i know better.]

noblesavage: nah, don't worry--you slipped the knife in real easy-like this time.

and it's not an unwillingness to face the truth that keeps me from writing sober as much as the mere fact that in that state i just don't care enough to bother.

and as for your last point, i'm reminded of my beautiful, statuesque (as in six-foot-tall) friend julie who for a time dated a guy who was maybe 5-8 on his best day. whenever anybody commented on the fact that he was short, she immediately shot back with, "not when he stands on his wallet," which generally ended the discussion.

judi: couple things:

1. i may be 50, but i'm a thin 50, goddammit (ok fine, i'm not, but gimme a couple months on the vodka & soda diet and i will be);

2. noblesavage is 10 years younger than me, if that helps;

3. pictures of the boy, please; and

4. i saw your facebook pic. no more mercy-fucking, young lady--women who look as good as you have options; in the future, i expect you to exercise them.

to all of you: i can't believe nobody commented on the incongruity of my committing my drunken dark thoughts to writing to the cheerful chirping of olivia newton-john in the background, because when i read the post the next day that's the first thing that struck me.

Anonymous said...

:::sigh:::

Thanks, Mikey, but honestly beer goggles will do that to you. That and sometimes the actual penis is much more important than its' life support system.

Will snap pics when I can pull off covert ops.

LMB said...

Okay fine - but how can I deride your drinking when I have been slowly slipping into the bottle myself. Each night four to five caguamas (For those not in the know - caguamas are 40oz. bottles served at the bars here with one glass of ice and salt - I'm getting thirsty...gotta go...)