Friday

Friday....

Friday Friday, Friday. Friday..!
Friday?

Finally Friday!

Haiku's aside, Fridays always bug me out for a second. This morning I thought it was Saturday but I had forgotten to get paid. Seems like money's on my mind, and also I assumed that I had such a crazy night that I blacked out for a whole day. That's the type of party person I am, poor and wild.

I like getting drunk. I think I'm good at it. It's not that hard to be social when you drink, I know, so there's nothing I should be really bragging about. I do think that I have trained well in the art of having intoxicated fun at bars, as it was my most valuable lesson from the 4 years in Oneonta State College.

First off, I'm really good at getting peer pressured. Super good at it. Chugging a beer, taking a shot, if anything that will escalate the night is asked of me then chances are I will do it. Unless I'm close to throwing up. I'm insanely good at knowing my vomit limit, my spew line, my Demilitarized-Zone of puke. I might be easy to pressure, but when I'm one drink away I will back off. It's my Superpower.


I also know like 3 party tricks. I can catch things in my mouth, juggle, and freestyle when the time calls for it. It might sound like I'm putting together a resume for the worst movie in the world, but screw it, this is who I am. If things are getting boring (These are pregame tricks only, don't start a rap circle at a public place) I'll be like "Who want's to play grapes?" and then my friend's girlfriend's friend's boyfriend, who's now my best pal in the world, will pipe up like "What's that, J-Dawg?" and then he will throw grapes into my mouth from across the room while nobody watches. It will be fun for us, though. That's all that matters.

I'm a good listener too, before I get too wasted. I've found that when you can break through the first few minutes of meeting somebody, you can get them rolling on something interesting or personal and it becomes a fun conversation. Nobody wants to be boring, nobody wants to do small talk all night, so I try and get them to say some weird shit. There's an art to that, too, and listening intently is the biggest factor. Are they talking about their job? Did they bring up a coworker in a dismissive or slightly bitter tone? I'll be all like "Aww, you hate this Cathy person don't you? Fuck Cathy!" And they'll be all like "YYYYEEEEEAAAAAHHHHH" And literally turn into He-Man, Gain the power of Grayskull, and start rattling off thirty ways why they hate Cathy. Those are my favorite times, cause it feels like I just cracked the code into the world's most interesting Jukebox. Plus, I gain the social credit needed to complain about my own workplace. It's a win-win, baby!

I think my favorite part of the night is the points in between locations, like between the pre-game and the first bar and all the hopping in between. Those are the best, when the whole crew comes out and we count our losses. Great idea, everyone in the party should be given a dog-tag so when they decide to split from the group they can give it to the host and they know it's over. Then outside a bar it's like "OkAY. ALRIGHT WHo do we HAve? One... Five... Thirteen, Plus three dog tags, that's sixteen! HOW many did WE STArt With?" You know, responsibility.

And the late night food, holy shit. That's the most magical moment in the world. That's the moment when you know it's over, when you can hang your hat up and put on your bib, then go to town on something that is absolutely not the correct thing to eat. I'm salivating already, imagining the Oneonta specialties that call to me this very day. My favorite was something called the Gooch Special, which was pulled pork on a hot dog bun, with Mac n' cheese on top, then garnished with crushed Fritos. My my, what a delectable treat. I look forward to the day where a food truck at 2AM sells something more perfect than that, but for now I'll settle with pizza.

What I miss most about College, though, is the mornings after a good rager. When I could sit around with my buddies, hung-over as all hell, going through Snapchats and trying to piece together the weird shit that went down. Those moments brought it all together, linked my normal state of sobriety with the exceptional stupidity and brazenness of my drunk-self. To know that the shortcomings I have normally can go away with a few ounces of liquid, and that I will always be appropriately punished for it. The instant nostalgia and humility of a hangover does something to a person that seems... healthy? Man, this is edging close to some terrible life advice. Who cares, drinking is fun.

So yes, tonight we party. And I'm excited for it, I guess. I'm into it Intellectually, like I know it'll be fun, but it's a bit too early to be into it spiritually. Physically I'm always ready, but my body is the one taking the punishment so I wouldn't say he's too pumped.

Anyway, see me in White Plains tonight. I'll be the drunk juggler rapping outside the bars.