18 January 2015

Getting Shredded on New Years Day



Reggie is the man my mom has been shacked up with for about as long as Sonja has been living with my dogs and I. Took mom a while to find Reggie after she split with Beer Senior. Sometimes it takes time to make good shit happen.

Reggie is the man I hope to be when (and if) I make it to Retirement. He enjoys life: drinks, shares my mom's pills when she has some good ones and never turns down a joint when one needs smoking.

He phoned me yesterday.

"Why the fuck aren't you writing?" he asked.

I was hoping no one would ask. It is a long story but I do not write many long stories. I will make it short.

"New Years Day Sonja was not feeling so good so I went to the pub by myself. Even took a cab there I was so fucked up from partying the night before. People in the pub were fucking animals as one must be to be drinking, and drinking heavily, on New Years Day. One drink led to another until I was quite blotto."

"You drink like that all the time and still manage to write fucking near every day," Reggie interjected.

"I'm not fucking finished," I told him somewhat wearily. "When it was time to go home one of the old boys offered me and several other fucking drunks a ride home. For some reason I bought a case of beer to go home with. I had shitloads of beer at home but I bought some more which would have been fine if the old boy had not crashed his car after he had dropped off everybody but me. I had the case of beer in my lap and when the airbags showed up to save our ass from sudden death it shot the case of beer straight into my hands cutting them up like shredded paper. I've been in too much pain to write."

Never think everybody else can drive drunk as good as you can - not unless you do not want to return to the sawmill for several weeks once Christmas holidays are over..

"That's the only reason you haven't been writing?" Reggie asked disbelievingly. "I'll be right over."

When he arrived he fixed me up with some of my mom's pills. I like to think of alcohol as a writer's best friend. Pills might just be better.

8 comments:

Kim said...

Feel better soon Beer!

sassy said...

I also missed you and wondered why.
Can't begin to imagine how much those cuts must hurt.

Belated best for 2015

Mr. Beer N. Hockey said...

What does not kill me makes drink more and more beer.

Anonymous said...

"speech to text"

include the quotes and GOOGLE that

Mr. Beer N. Hockey said...

I'd completely forgot about speech to text technology. Come a fair way hasn't it. I wonder how good it works after you have had a few?

motorcycleguy said...

jeez, said this before...couldn't make that up if I tried...would like to relay your story if that's ok.....I walked to the bar on New Years Day and got a ride home (just like you) but no such action.....my ears are still ringing from the last time airbags went off and it hasn't gone away...years in a machine shop didn't do as much damage....hope you can still hear those 8tracks ok...I know beer washes down the explosive powder taste but not too clear on how to get around the chards of glass in your hands thing

Mr. Beer N. Hockey said...

Relay away McGuy.

Conversely, I think the airbag action stopped the ringing in my ears. Removing glass shards from your own flesh comes naturally to old punkrockers like me I guess. Had most of them pulled out with my teeth before the ambulance even showed.

motorcycleguy said...

I think there are some good punkrock lyrics here