bottle 21 or the jump street is gonna stab you in the mouth

its amazing how a fifth of fighting cock can turn your day around. well it’s not exactly that it turns your day around as much as it lowers your standards for a good day. hell, sometimes we’re too serious about the success of our daily actions. sometimes we should just realize there are days where we dont do jackshit outside of accomplishing something minor. or even just treading through the bullshit.

hell, sometimes i feel like if i get through a day without some of the small things we take for granted then i’m fine. for example: i havent seen an entire commercial all day. i have no stress in the pitch for spending dollars. i havent looked at too much concrete. i wish i could say that i havent seen a cop but the fucking state troopers decided that our driveway was the perfect place to meet drug informants and or undercover cops for some reason. either way, today hasnt been awful.

maybe we should stop being so negative and save the real awful days for the ones that actually are. makes more sense than worrying over petty bullshit that doesn’t matter anyways.

patrick swayze is dead and it could happen a million more times and in ten years it wont mean shit. what the fuck are we worrying about?

fuck lessons that dont result in us realizing we’re not as big as we want to think we are. someone could travel back in time and step on us and it wouldn’t change shit.

bottle 21. i fucking hate you. i didnt mean that. i really didnt.

we’re a week away. i dont know how to feel.

bottle 18, 19, & 20 or man did i ever let this shit hang out there for too long.

blah blah blah. at first i wanted bottle 18 to be a picture essay but it just didnt work out that way.  it’s hard to capture the feeling of fighting cock summer in picture form. i was a fool for even thinking it could work, the good lord seen to that. while i was waiting on that to pan out we kept drinking. the next thing i know i’m deep in to bottle 20 and wondering where the time went. it happens that way. like sand in the hourglass.

i could tell many a funny stories but none had lessons. it was more about destructive behavior in the physical and collateral. damage is damage. sometimes a sense of restraint would do wonders to make life ultra fucking boring. i bet i wouldnt wake up with half the party scars.

sometimes it’s good to not learn any lessons. then you’re just fucking up for the sake of the story or due to a lack of common sense. maybe both. find me in real life and i’ll tell you both kinds, mostly about lack of common sense though.

we are 13 days away from the end of this experiment. i think the goal is to at least get to bottle 25. goddamn not having a liquor store in the town we live in. it made us under-achievers. well that and drinking beer which is more easily accessible.