dean_r

Now it's happened. I've had enough for the apparent "slurring" and the issue that when you tilt your head you feel a bit dizzy. Actually, I'm just typing and I feel like I'm at sea, so evidently I've had what would be labeled as "enough", or possibly "more than enough". Enough that I'll sleep for a few hours more than usual, and wake up hating every moment of this giddiness. I'm apparently a bit of a lightweight, but still coherent enough to un-typo mistakes, at least. Amazing that even when I get drunk, my personality of a pseudo-perfectionist still enforces me to edit any spelling mistakes, unlike the usual really drunk posts I see from LJ friends. I imagine if you got me drunk to the point that I was unable to speak and my legs were giving way, I'd still backspace up every little grammatical error and put things right. In a coma, I'd still have that pinky finger working overtime, changing all the "teh"s to "the"s, and being damned proud of it. On my gravestone, they will say "He seldom typoed on Livejournal, which makes up for the fact he was bland in so many other ways."

I'm on a very light stomach, for I took a solus flight into majestic Seattle today, and encountered wonderful Eduardo clothing at Hot Topic, and got rid of $30 of used games, and forgot to get more than a Quizno's sub and an asiago cheese sourbread pretzel, with snacks inbetween. Irregardless, it didn't take much for tonight to end up a dizzy, convoluted mess. A pint of Bass, a pint and a bit of Stella Artois, and stealing a fair amount of Jamie's Budweiser, enough for at least a pint of that. I don't know. Doesn't seem like much. Still, it means I can get hammered for cheap! How fabulous to know for the future. I'm kind of teasing myself by spinning on a revolving chair, to enforce the fact that I got drunk, and these are the ramifications. I'm nervous by how sturdy the chair isn't, however, and I might stop for fear of breaking the chair - or more importantly, smashing my head against a table corner.

I enjoyed a trip into Seattle alone today. I walked up and down for seven hours; at least fifteen miles' worth of walking. I felt like I walked until I burned my legs' muscles to lactic acid. The back of my left leg especially hurts - like a hammer smashed into it. But that is life. I found the nice shirts at Hot Topic, and found an independent game store called Pink Godzilla which sounded wonderful until I walked in and realised that the shop was about the size of a dollar bill. Yes, it had every NES game known to mankind and twenty others besides, but I was a Sega zealot for that period of time, and so I have no concerns for your Ice Climbers or Kid Icarus. Alex Kidd, man. Alex Kidd and his stupid walrus-ghost-thing. Still, I bought a seductive DS stylus and ran with the wind away from the store, for it was situated around so many homeless people that I feared for my "spare change", of which I had pennies. And giving a homeless person pennies is like giving a crazed gunman one blank. He'll scream at you "WHAT AM I GOING TO DO WITH THAT?", to which the answer is "Not get drunk, I guess."

I also could not find a decent pair of Converse in my size that I didn't own already, however, and that upset me greatly. I have four pairs of Converse I would acquire right now, if they were in front of me, and this imaginary store accepted Visa. I will have to order some of these pairs of marvelous shoes from eBay in the near future, for I am in the mood for pretty shoes, and I am crazed enough in this stupor to buy nearly anything. But on my travels I did find Hi-Chew, the gum-like Japanese candy. Without this, I might be crazy enough to buy a pool table online. I keep stealing glimpses at the Hi-Chew over my shoulder, planning to engorge on one of those strawberry snacks when I stop typing, which'll probably be when my body decides it needs to use the bathroom AGAIN, as your body seems to demand of you when too much alcohol gets into it. Still, I can cross my legs and ignore the pain for a while.

Still, no hiccups so far. I'm not that bad. (And if I am coherent enough to use italic HTML properly, I am not really that drunk. Typos, a drunk me could handle. Coding, not until I go back and edit the post a little later, when my mind can focus.)

Drunk people and the internet. Why oh why? I'll bet a percentage of auctions that end late at night are bid on by savage drunkards, unaware of the concept of money or obligations or even feedback. Hell, I'd buy a mountainsworth of spent batteries at this point of squiffiness, and deservedly suffer the consequences in the morn. But at least I could lick the expired blighters until I felt radioactive.

I also apparently found an appreciation for Snickers that had never appeared at any other point in my life. I went into an almost-primal rage for chocolate, to gorge upon whilst intaking the booze. Snickers was all that was there, and I scarfed two of the blighters down in a frenzy, and could have kept going until the next Ice Age. I almost wanted to ask if I could be dropped at a 7-11 for more of these Snickerses, but I am glad I wasn't. I would have had every single one in the store and been violently unwell - unwell enough that the hangover I endure tomorrow would be a mere hiccup; in comparison.

Anyway! The bathroom calls, followed by Hi-Chew, followed by purchasing a pool table online. What a wonderful evening this has turned out to be!