The Terriffic Drinkers, the Real Drunks (not the F Scott Fit

Story begins with a guy in rehab, telling another fuck you should leave man.
So the other actually leaves, but then comes back a week later. In between, something happened, and it will never be resolved, as the guy who lived it did so in a deep, deep trance.

Ten people involved, from 3 different generations, evil laughter in a ring of bitches… vaguely understood but well appreciated.
And the man who fucking dodged that bullet.

PROLOGUE

A dark night.

A brush of a knee,

My sweet girl expelled for sucking another patient’s dick the same day she introduced a lady patient to lesbianism.

They heard some rumors in this beautiful bitches room… There was a guy they called spiderman man, you know why they call him spiderman? Anyway there was this girl, Satan himself maybe, yeah man, that time so right, so spiderman right. so she spends all night flashing this whore heroin addicted pussy at this sixteen year old brown stallion. He was a tall skinny kid who apparently who when he got there was already pimping a whole through the stratosphere itself. But anyway, that night he became Spiderman, he straight crawled out of his window sand creeped down the sort of German styled tile roof into the hos room and straight man straight fucked her ass in two man. That girl did such evil things to men, man… this tail goes around his whole house twice man… he’s a fucking rat… you’re a fucking rat aren’t you… I dont like masturbating man, you cant lie to the Van Buren like that man. … oh this funny guy, I couldnt tell if when I was beating them, I couldnt tell if he was breathing or just doing that post death thing - ho - ho… Just a bunch of jewles down there man. Bunch of gems… top of the line carat only he purest purest. And we needed a guy on a motorcycle.

Wow :open_mouth:

Divulgence whilst under the influence?

This is a tale by Pezer as recorded by me.

But other people arent discouraged to write. Pezer says he wants to dedicate this chapter to the poster known as Trevor who is a true poet.

I was referring to the first post, but my thoughts changed after the second.

Discouraged? Maybe, but more likely blocked, anyway Burroughs would have said it best, ‘young boys need it special’ or something like that. As far as the old dark one is concerned, I could quote him again, ’ a deal with him is not a good one’.

New round, new chances.

This one? Yeah that was fucking good.

I can’t remember anymore why we needed a guy on a motorcycle

So that they could ride easy, and if down, they could recite koans to repair them

German beer is so good, that I broke my gluten free ban to drink it… so good.

I like the title.

I know someone needs to do some damn joytice to it for foks sayk

Close Up Drunk:

hear ye, old pals,
we I was sitting in the parlour and a dame come sup next to me
and the says, can I sit with ye dalrlin? Or some such, I was already too drunk to hear it.
So she went through my pockets and got out the quarter-pennies and the tissue I kept for the bleedin, of me nose you know and
so she gets up again and I pulls her skirt, and she kicks me in the shin like a horse so I yelped, and the she goes "Ready now for ya medicine are ya pappie!.

Cut to
Wide of Bar, empty except for drunk

Drunk raises empty glass, a dog comes and pisses on the leg of the table, an elderly fellow comes up and pours from a large canister a great slosh of ale

Barkeep: I like ye stories eh Sam. But you shouldnt get yourself someone to tell em to, in private?
You know Kos theres a time and place for all this you kow.
You cant spring all the presents on one Christmas tree you know? As the old pap said.

He said that?

He said it right here, where you’re sitting now Sam.

Oh really?

Nods
Yah really so I suppose, you are in his place now.
Up to make your own decisions Sam.
No more stories of old sorrow,
new stories, for the ages Sam
so they might sing them in the halls of Eden

Walhalla

Also, Walhalla. Excellent place.

Laughter from Sam surprises the silence.
You’re alright fella. Keep forgetting ya name. Justin?

That right pap Justin.
No its Arleigh, of course are you kidding me Sam?

No, Im just, Im

Sam drinks

Arleigh shakes his head, like a good natured Hobbit, at such humanry.