[the miracle of alcohol and technology]

Now, as you leave your house
getting ready for that night of
absolute self-inflicted terror
on your liver, there is usually
a moment where you pause,
this usually takes place just as
your about to leave your front
door, as you ask yourself
‘Do I take my phone tonight?’

Now the smart thing to do
would be to put the phone
down and leave to enjoy
your night, but do oyu?

Do you fuck, so what happens?
You put the phone in your pocket
and head out of the door to the
pub/club/back-alley in the middle of
nowhere, ‘just in case’. What you
don’t expect is that sudden urge you
get when you drunk, to become
the worlds best writer and tell
someone, whoever that is, how you
feel.

Now I have fallen prey to this mistake
many a time, and chances are if you’re
reading this I have drunkenly sent
a message to you be it by
texting/calling/even msn [doesn’t even
matter if your online, if there is
something to say, I’ll do it], sometimes
[which depending on the person] i wake
up in the morning and lay there hoping
that I have imagined said incident and
that I was smart.

I have never been that smart, ever.

It has actually got to the point
that I have had to stop apologising,
not that I’m not sorry, just that I know
I’ll do it again.

So I’m writing this piece, mainly out
of boredom, but also as a cautionary
note to being in my phonebook/msn list,
or my friend, you just gotta put up
with it, whether its from me or one of
your other pissed up mates, it will
happen, please be understanding,
there really, really, really drunk.

[word count: 290 words]

[this was first published on the livejournal
on the 19th Of February 2008]

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