The Russian pirate.

So this weekend I feel like being a Russian pirate. Went to the liquor store, Vodka is always compulsory when I go there, so it is a question of either Gin or Rum to buy with the Vodka. Somehow I went for Rum. Don't know why. But I have been trying out the Jamaican Rum since 1600 and for some reasons being drunk from 4pm till 1am and writing a blog at 1 does not feel too appropriate to me. Anyhow I managed to phone Fung and also get dinner. Somehow. Don't ask.

Yeah. So it's 3am now and I have been awake since what, 1am I said, right?

It feels funny. Waking up drunk and then try to remember what you did or ate. I know I got some chicken and potatoes from the dining hall. Hope I paid, or at least I hope I acted normal. Then I was somehow in the common room watching TV as I said. That I don't care much. Anyways I don't look too much like an alcoholic to the people who saw me there I guess. Don't know. Don't ask. Now I am here. Hungry again. I know, eating when you're drunk is fucking annoying. You know you ate, you know you're supposed to feel full, but you just aren't. I. Want. Food. And it's 3am, hence no food anywhere, unless I call some sketchy cheap pizza place which... doesn't really exist at 3am. Guess I'll just either have to shove the rest of my rum down and pass out again or just wait for 7 hours until the dining hall opens again.

Don't you think it's pathetic? People drink to have fun, to attend sex-fests which are disgusied as 'parties' as the university students say. Or maybe not sex-fests. Just randomly waving your arms and talk trash with people who are as sober as you are. Or, don't you think it's pathetic? Getting a litre of rum and vodka on a Friday afternoon, start drinking right away once you reach home and somehow do something and pass out. Then wake up at 1am and stay up till 3 and write a blog. Which one sounds worse? Don't know. Don't ask. I really want food. But yes. I don't do alcohol at weekdays. Or... I should re-phrase it. When I have to limit my funds, I don't do alcohol at weekdays. Yes and sorry, I do my boozing either when I'm alone or only with a small 'crowd'.

And I don't booze like a college student, sorry.

No, I don't have sex with people I don't know.

No, I don't shout or scream when I'm drunk. I phone people, listen to music, watch movies, write plays or simply pass out.

So, sorry, I do my boozing at home.

Alone. Or only with a small 'crowd'.

And yes, I. Am. Pathetic.

And I don't care.

I am a guy who made a skirt for himself and I am not gay but I only will preferrably get together with left handers from now on but you never know what happens by that I mean if someone who is right handed who makes me feel secure and safe enough to love and be loved of course I will dive straight into that person like I did but do you think it is possible I don't think so and I still made a skirt for myself and I wore it today when I went to the liqour store or something and once I got back to my room I opened my rum and started pouring it into my stomach like a farmer pouring pesticide onto his plants or something but I really like my skirt and it could be a finished product now or I could also destroy my tee shirt with the purple clown face and transfer it onto the skrit I made I really don't know and I should not forget that I need to find a monologue for my theatre audition because if I fuck it up I will have no life and yes even less life than what I am having now although some people and my acting teacher said something I did was good acting and excellent work BLAHBLAHBLAH (danke Heiner Müller für die BLAHBLAHBLA) but yes what if I fuck the audition up then I might go back to Hong Kong or I might try to stay in Canada doing nothing but nothing or I might just kill myself no killing myself is not the aim yet and why the fuck am I sitting naked in my own room alone am I not cold am I not drunk am I not hungry fuck hungry why did I remind myself of that and i am thinking that it is fun typing out my thoughts non stop when I am drunk without punctuations and I don't even have to look at the keyboard to type because my mom who was the head secretary of some trading company once taught me how to type 'properly' I think it is cool but as I am looking at my bottle(s) I don't know how many bottles I have been touching drinking licking shoving (sp) down my stomach and I see my own mother coming on MSN as I am writing about her it is kind of creepy but it is good that she i snot talking to me but then talk about talking I am still thinking about how I ordered my 'dinner' which I know I am supposed to remember but I don't as in the chicken I talked about was I speaking with blurryspeech or was I coherent enough to get the chicken I had to be coherent enough or else I wouldn't be able to eat the chicken finally yeah you guys get what I mean and I find it really really really fun just typing on and on and on and on without thinking what I should type like when I am sober when inspirations are dry and stuff but I know it is nothing interesting to read I guess it is just some kind of disection (sp) of my own brain or it is some kinda of drunk soliloquy (sp) of my own little distorded (sp) brain it is fun when one is single when you are drunk you don't think of having sex with someone maybe it is only me since all the college guys think of sex when they are drunk I guess no matter with males or females and talk kabout being homosexual I think of the girl I saw in the common (TV) room when I was piss drunk a little bit earlier remember the Sex Pistold Documentary I talked about yes it was then and I wonder what I said I remember I offer her my rum and she said she doesn't do rum or something when I am pissed I always offer alcohol to people and something I tried to ask if she was doing art and stuff but apparently she was just drawing for fun oh my I don't know somehow I feel liek having a cigarette with uh myself and I uh burp and but yes for whatever's sake I am somehow sitting naked alone in my room no I was not having sex no I was not masturbating maybe when I am drunk I like to sleep naked but I know I am supposed to feel cold in my room right not naked but it just is weird because I can sense that it should be cold but I don't actually feel cold whatever this is getting too long I should either get some sleep or just go for a fucking cigarette no I know it is too cold outside and I will not enjoy it so why don't I just fucking save the cigarette and maybe just go and get a chocolate bar or something yes some of you might remember I hate chocolate but maybe the scientists are right endorphin the feeling of being loved is what chocolate gives and as I am typing this I am feeling cold so the pirate water is going away time for a break from typing continously for quite some time but yes I type fast so it could be only 10 minutes or something and as I was typing this I hear the wind howling (sp) outside my window for some reasons and it is Febuary (sp) I never know how to spell Jan and Feb yes I know I am an idior aber ja the wind is fucking blowing outside and I feel strange and a little bit cold probably and yes I am looking forward for tomorrow so that I can have something warm to eat for g*d's love fuck I hate sobering up because then I cannot type as much as I would like to and damn it I have the feeling when your eyes are damn dry but you know you want more alcohol to make them even drier and it is funny that I can type better and without or with less typos when I am on the Russian pirate drink meaning vodka and rum but I don't know somehow I want to get Gin also but yeah it is a matter of choice but it is really funny to type out what my brain is thinking about because it is not really what I am thinking about it is just what MY BRAIN is thinking about but yes I know you guys will not read till here and I also know that it would be quite funny to read it the next morning so I am off to put on something at least and then might be I will have a cigarette in the howling (sp again for fuck's sake) wind and then maybe a chocolate bar to rot my teeth how lovely I am rotting my live stomach lungs and now teeth also because I fucking need endorphin (sp) but yes I am off to something other than typing out my thoughts and looking at my naked body through the mirror and realising how pretty or handsome or whatever I don't mean to sound homosexual it is not like I have something against homos but just to make sure I am not one yet yes realising how pretty or handsome or whatever I am yes I am weird I love to talk to my keyboard my blog mirrors my whatever but the ultimate thing is I am talking to myself and I don't think I am going for a cigarette now I am just going downstairs to get a chocolate bar or something for the immediate moment when I wake up and feel seasick oh I mean hangover from vodka and rum or whatever I feel maybe I feel seasick in the North Sea oh no or maybe the Kamchatka (a huge sp bait so sp?) but yes I am talking the peninsula which sticks out of east Russia or something if I am still getting NS and EW right but anyways I should really stop typing this as it is getting really nowhere ok STOP.

Rum on.
Vodka's still good though and the wind is still howling (sp).

STOP.

And Rum on.

(Congrats and hugs to those who made it to the end of this nonsense drunk rum vodka cold windy stupid pathetic intoxicated blasted post)

Talking about Blasted. Read Sarah Kane.
I am looking for her collected works (as she didnt live long, her works are published in one books only- but she is just great and her plays are BEAUTIFUL and LOVELY. I don't care what you say. Kane is good.).

Rum on.
(I hear police siren. Poor alcohol poisoned college kids. Sigh. I need intellectual/drunk wannabe intellectual talk.)

How can I type w/o typos when I am fairly drunk (that I am sitting naked in my own room alone and don't know why)?

Whatever, the keyboard is ADDICTIVE!

Rum on.

Fucking pirates.

Go the Russian pirate way and you will understand me.