I Live Alone, Act One

Today my house got broken into. Fuck. I leave my windows open to get fresh air. All of them are pretty high up. But shitty people are more clever than we ever give them credit for. No big damage. Nothing was stolen besides some jewelry. Some jewelry that was completely worthless to anyone but me. Things I won't realize are gone until I go to look for them. I'm on my third "Kimmie pour" of whiskey, btw. I'm thankful the animal s are okay. To be fair, I could have had much worse intruders. They only broke a screen. The mess was minimal and they didn't even let the dog out of her penned in area. But stil...FUCK THEM TK DEATH! How dare you make me feel afraid in my own home. Okay. I feel better. Oh, and as much as I generally hate and disrespect the police; one of them was pretty kind to me today and I really appreciated it. But really. Fuck people. Fuck shitty ass people. And fuck the shitty ass people that make the shitty ass people they way they are. And fuck society that produces the people that make shitty ass people. Everything's fucked. I'm going to become and agoraphobe and claim disability and also write best selling crime novels (shitty ones) PEACE

Je veux bacon

Fun times on Cliffords porch with misss Kimmeeee drinking abundant amounts of wine

Guess Who's Back

A lot has happened. A lot of alcohol has been consumed. We've come a long way since this blog started. Tonight I started re-watching Gossip Girl and warm fuzzy memories of this blog came rushing back to me. It's not like we've sobered up, we've just gotten lazy about writing about our boozy adventures. So. Here we go. Reboot. I'm sitting on new furniture in MY HOUSE. Next to MY DOG. Who am I? Am I different? Have I changed? Remember when drinking alone was a novelty? Now it's a staple in my life. And my attention span has gotten shorter...so that it for me.

Things That Are Funky

Stevie Wonder
Stilton
JFK's death
Boy's bathrooms (in general)
GEORGE CLINTON & PARLIAMENT FUNKADELIC-so obvs. Der.

Now IS good time.

WTF! I like my job. And...I kinda think...my job likes me too!!! I keep waiting for the bad, you know, when you realize how much your job blows and how you hate the shit out of all your co-workers. Ive been there for 5 months, but I kinda think I'm still in the honeymoon phase. Or. Something.


Oh Shit! Kids, it's after midnight!!!! Guess what time of year it is???


Happy Birthday David Bowie! Happy Bowie Day World!!!

mixing with Strauss.

Wine and wine and tequila. Then the good tequila. Then a bit of bourbon. A bit more... a little more... come on, son, that's all you're pouring? Then whatever that mixture was you handed me, I think it had sambuca in it. Hold up, I should probably clock out. Or not. Beer and a shot. And then... what was that wine? The one that's got the word Lola in it. Yeah, two of those please. No more, I should go home. Oh, a Gran Marnier to finish? It's like a tympani roll. Build up and build up, Also sprach Zarathustra!

Things That Are French

Fries.
Toast.
Kisses.

Things That Are French

ThingsThatAreWarm

puppies.

Things That Are Purple

Grapes.

I drink alone, part 177

New apartment. New job. New mother fucking life. I made my first manhattan tonight and I'm pretty impressed. I'm sitting here after a long night at work, watching Hell's Kitchen ( my favorite guilty pleasure) and getting shwasted. This is the place I want to be in the time I want to be. Gordon Ramsey would tot's tell me to fuck off. I smoked a cig in my non-smoking apartment building tonight and I feel kinda guilty. I gotta quit! But booze and smokes go together better than sea salt and caramel. What's a girl to do?

Solution for the night; ima go outside to smoke and watch Hell's Kitchen on me IPhone. High nerdery bitches! There are nerderyer things I could do....I could be watching Doctor Who or BSG outside? Perhaps it doesn't matter what I'm watching, only that I'm watching from my telephone outside because I can't stand to sit and smoke in silence alone. Yeah, I guess it's time to quit.

Back

My cab driver tonight stopped for White Castle. She also stopped the meter but didn't ask if I wanted anything.

Hot hot heat

Drinking alone is harder when it's 106 outside. Especially red wine. Even in my air-conditioned hidey-hole. But unemployment makes it imperative. This is my job right now, and I take it very seriously. Television gets boring. Booze makes television better. Batlestar Galactica isn't the same sober anymore. Applying for unemployment is ridiculously easy.

Hey drunk friends, or friends who read drunk thoughts...

I make art.

I've started posting it.

Check it out by clicking  -> *HERE* <-

Comments are always appreciated. Intoxicated or not.


(Disclaimer: not all images were created while drunk.)

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Small towns love Steve Miller...do I?

I'm at a tiny bar in a tiny town drinking my 2 dollar bottle of Bud Light. So many sweet mustaches on such strange men. Also, there is a guy with AN EYE PATCH!! Jealous? I want to move here with all my friends and rule this town. It would be like a Rhianna song.

"IT'S A MUSTACHE."

Making feathers out of material that does get wet.

Disclaimer: I am not writing this in my word shit and then copying and pasting. No editing.

I am almost a real person again, so that's good news. Since I've been slightly made of jade for a year, give or take months or six to eight.

I want to go to France and I actually am going to this year. Before my next birthday. Fuck right. About fucking time in sooooo many ways. !!!

It was the Australian wine that got me pricing flights when I should have been reading dental reviews or some jazz and blah.

According to my last post I am supposed to post art things. I don't have a new photo so this is what you get:


(I don't want it. I just need it.... Maynard...) -nevermind that

^ this a month or so old ^ This I have for you dear readers tonight.

So I haven't dyed my hair in seven years. I am going to create something to ^this^effect with peroxide perhaps. Blah again.

The realization that I am an artist and that I am fleeting in the inspiration (or have been lacking entirely) is the begining of the sigh, the half breath, without follow through. This and the defotones makes me feel nostalgic...

Either way, anyway, I lost my thought... I am going to be my real self again soon.  By real, I mean of substance..... WHOA!!!!!!!!!!! Just killed a centipede!!!!!!!
 What was I saying?? I think I was going to say something about feeling like vapor, but killing that creepy thing... I now feel like a warrior. It a great night.

P.S. I went to a wedding over the weekend. Everyone should have a dancing bear at their nuptial and a fairy princess and a bonfire with pagan sacrifices. Just sayin. 

Tuesday 7:30am

Hangover sunburn construction outside my window ice cream sandwich.