Drink

As I sit here drinking rum

at ten-thirty in the morning,

I begin to wonder if maybe

I might be a pirate by the time the bottle’s gone.

Wouldn’t that be ideal?

There certainly seems to be

a goodly number of drunk men

thinking they are Superman….

I can see the commercial for it now.

No need for higher learning!

Drink what you want to be!

Like, if you long to be a cowboy,

break out the Jim and Jack!

You’ll be whoring and meeting your enemy

at high noon in no time!

You aspire to be a great writer, you say?

Well, what kind of writer do you wish to be?

Do you wish to write brilliant

yet depressingly dull fiction?

Hemingway preferred absinthe.

Mind the green fairy, though.

She may put a shotgun in your hand

and bid you blow your brains out.

You have a journalistic edge?

Wild turkey was Hunter’s poison.

(I do wonder if maybe you might

just turn into a turkey if you drink that though.)

Wouldn’t it be grand?

If instead of just being called an alcoholic,

you could be called Marilyn Monroe?

What if you constantly drink vodka?

Will you turn into a Russian anarchist?

I’m not sure all Russians endorse anarchy,

but there sure seems to be

a hella lotta movies portraying them that way.

The question really is….

if you drink sea water,

are you actually a mermaid?

Creepin’

I be creepin’….

I feel like this is or could be the title to a great hit song.

In this day and age, you ain’t nobody unless you been creeped on by some random acquaintance on Facebook.

Which means: I just made at least six people Somebody.

I promise when I sat down at my computer, it was with the only intention of writing at least three hard-to-come-by paragraphs for my novel that will be finished in about ten years. Only, I signed in to Facebook, and after clicking on several alluring ads for $17 dresses, I decided to see what my not-so-close virtual friends looked like before I knew them, or after I knew them, and what their dogs look like, and let’s not forget all those annoying Facebook babies. This is what I found out.

Some people should go back to their natural brunette hair color. (I am aware that I may be one of these “some people”.)

Some people look just a little bit better than they did last year.

Some other people looked a lot better last year.

There are just way too many damn infants on Facebook. Apparently the entire population of Minnesota and some of Wisconsin have nothing better to do than fuck like rabbits nonstop.

All of Facebook is nothing but a ruse. I once thought all those people posting pictures actually DID stuff. Now I realize they are just taking pictures nonstop of themselves in their very ordinary lives. Well, guess what, people?! I can do that too!

There are very few people who actually throw interesting-looking weddings. I’ve decided if ever I have another wedding, there will be mermaids, belly-dancers, a unicorn, a rodeo clown, and at least two pirates. (Preferably the Johnny Depp kind, not the Somali variety.)

I realize that people are probably starting to get tired of seeing me post a daily pic of my new puppy. Because I am most certainly getting tired of seeing pics of their babies.

Some people should most definitely not start their own Youtube channel, because nobody really cares where some people come from.

Damn, I’m harsh tonight. Sorry.