Hrothgar The Great's Journal: Scotch

Never really bothered with this whole Journal thing before. Hell, I probably read and posted on Slashdot for two years before I even noticed that it existed. I'm just that smart, people.

Well, not that anyone will probably ever read this entry anyway, as none of my real life buddies ever read Slashdot, and I have never posted enough to gain a reputation one way or another in this place.

Anyhow, as the subject of the journal entry says, this is about scotch, or more to the point, about drinking and being a jackass in general. I had a relatively tame college life - don't get me wrong, I had a great time, it's just that it never really involved drinking much. I got married as soon as I got out, which in retrospect was by far the worst decision I have ever made, and it bit me right in the ass when I got divorced a few months ago. I took up with some recent acquaintances - friends of a college buddy who was about to move away forever. What I ended up getting in on was a month and a half long send off for this guy, and I'm still reeling from it.

We started drinking heavily every night. 3-4 times a week I was in the same bar with my buddy from school. If we weren't there, we were at my place drinking beer and playing video games, or at his brother's drinking scotch. On Friday nights we would sit at the same table at the same bar every time, drinking beer from 8:00 until the bar closed, with rather insane amounts of shots in between. Expensive shots that left my wallet hurting, believe me. Cinnamon doesn't taste like cinnamon any more. It tastes like Goldschlager. When I brush my teeth I might as well be drinking the Exxon Valdez (a truly disgusting combination of Jaegermeister and some crazy as yet unidentified blue and red shit - whole thing tastes exactly like toothpaste). Carbombs were a favorite. Tequila shots. Whiskey shots. Shot after shot of some horrid abomination called Fernet (fermented beet molasses, for the fortunately uninitiated). Grappa (don't drink this). Absolut Peppar. This shit still makes me sick whenever I so much as think about it.

I spent quite a few post bar nights retching for several hours. I invited two friends over one night to watch some TV after we each downed 10 beers and 14 shots at the bar. We kept drinking at my place and I ended up throwing up at least fifty times. I started to wonder right around then if this actually constituted fun, but it was new, and interesting, so I guess it still seemed all right at the time.

Between the booze and my ridiculous splurging on guitars and tvs and shit I just really didn't need, I spent $8000 in two months. No shit. Right at the moment, I am approaching being flat broke, but what the hell, right?

The month culminated in a party at this guy's apartment. He had all of us over and a good portion of his family as well. We drank enough alcohol to drown an entire city that night. An old friend of mine ended up passing out on the lawn wearing a sombrero, and the host of the party ended up freaking out and punching a hole through his downstairs wall while I was out waking this guy up. I got to clean up a huge puddle of puke and drive home so drunk I could barely see that night. I'm not sure whether this either ended up being a good experience or not.

I'm sure this is a boring story right now. You see, that's exactly my problem, and what prompted me to write this entry. The month long party ended, and I just kept right on drinking, 5-6 nights a week. My friends are beginning to think I have a problem, and I'm wondering myself - alcholism does run in my family. Shit, last Saturday I must have downed 6 beers and 7 glasses of scotch, and I was just the biggest asshole you could imagine to a room full of total strangers. I thought I was having fun when this shit started, but when I write about it now or try to tell stories, it's all just a big mess, and it sounds SO FUCKING LAME. What in the fucking hell have I been doing with myself lately?

My drinking episodes are just becoming trite and boring. I guess I need to give it up, or get new friends who are more destructive and exciting or something. I don't even know anymore, to tell you the truth.