What can I say, other than it’s St. Patty’s Day. What do people even celebrate on this day? Getting drunk? Seriously, it should be called “Drinking Day,” like a day to celebrate alcohol, like 4/20. Unfortunately, the only difference is that drunks suck much worse than stoners for one, & two, despite anomalies, smoking weed isn’t potentially lethal to yourself & others around you. Drunk driving, drunk fighting, drunk sex even, all destructively negative attributes of drinking booze. On the other hand, stoners don’t hurt anyone really, other than themselves. Of course, as I already mentioned, there are anomalies; I’m sure there’s been cases of “stoned driving” that led to unexpectedly negative consequences, but those cases are very few & far between. Point being, if “green” is the veneration of the celebration, I’ll take herbal relief every time over a shot of poisonous liquid courage.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a fucking prude, I’m totally down with a drink or two at dinner or something like that. Reckless drinking in a bar though, meh…hasn’t been a thing for me since college. This floating fish put in his time & then some back in college. Holy shit it’s insane when I think back on how far I used to take it when I partied. Ask anyone who knows me. I was known to dry-gulch random dipshits for my own amusement. There was always one guy at a party, always one, creeping, saying weird shit, just being a wanker in general, so whenever I was present when “that guy” was in full-form…KAPOW, down & out, then drug out of the party while everyone kicked him, even a few girls. True story. Good times. This is the funniest part though; that only happened once, one time, right at the beginning of my 7-year college career.
There were a few other fights to be sure, & I am still undefeated, but like fight fights where I had to whip someones’s ass who came at me, but that one fight, ONE FIGHT, stayed with me for 7 years…as if I did it all the time…oy vey, people are so strange, aren’t they? The way they make somethings out of nothings. I feel bad too because I fucked that guy”s face up like a savage. The first punch caught him above his left eye, the sweet spot, splitting his eye open, & dropping him to the floor. I thought he was out, but then he tried to get up like a moron, & threw a ridiculous haymaker. Derp…wrong move. Sadly for him, the booze made him so slow that he telegraphed said haymaker, & I just ducked out of the way, then threw another straight right punch, right into the bridge of his nose, which kind if exploded with an audible splatter & he was done, out, on the floor crying I think. I don’t know, but it was like this moaning, wailing sort of sound. Anyway, a few buddies & myself grabbed his dumbass, & drug him to the front door, & the trip there was no fun for him, as random kicks from guys & gals landed all over his body. Everyone was laughing & yelling at him, poor guy.
What a dick I am, but I know that already, so fuck that guy. He was being uncouth, especially to the ladies, & I’m guessing he remembers that night to this day, especially when he looks in the mirror at the scar over his eye & the new nose he had to get fixed after I broke it. Regardless, all of that was totally unnecessary, & totally fueled by booze, like gas on a bonfire. I used to be a bartender, & spent a decade & change babysitting drunks, which is another reason why one, I don’t drink to get drunk, & two, I don’t celebrate this ridiculous holiday that transformed from its original meaning into essentially, “Drinking Day.” Yep, that’s what today is, & I bet 9 out of 10 random people on the street have no clue what the original meaning of St. Patrick’s Day is. For instance, ask the next person you run into, “Who is St. Patrick?,” & see what they barf out for a wrong answer, because odds are, they won’t have a clue. It’s analogous to when you ask random people these days, “What year was the USA founded?,” or “What are the Bill of Rights?” Don’t believe me? I linked some “Man on the Street” videos from the great Mark Dice below, a whole playlist, one video after another, illustrating exactly what I just told you. “Check it out,” as he says, & click below for some real-time Idiocracy.
Well, that was fun, wasn’t it? Do you feel like you caught brain-AIDS? Yeah, I know, me too. It’s heartbreaking to see this staggering stupidity though, despite the obvious humor in it, it’s really just pathetically sad. Why? Why are Americans so God-damned dumb these days? Sheesh. Oh wait, this is the end result of public “education,” which doesn’t really educate you on anything, per se, other than how to be a good debt slave. Civics, finance, other languages, music theory, all of this is crucial in the proper education of young minds, but you only find it in the schools where the so-called elites send their kids. Oh yes, the game starts at birth, & if you’re born into the peasant class, as most of us are, you’re taught to be a slave in public school, rather than how to become your best individual self. Public education is for the hive minded; click that link & you can read more about it, because it’s time to wrap this up. Dang, I start with one thing, & finish with another, every time, never fails. I bet I go on & on, watch & see…
As I’ve said repeatedly, I just tune the dial to the best frequency, then let these fingers fly, & when it’s all done, I don’t really remember what I write, so I go back & read it when I proofread for my grammatical errors, & sometimes it’s astonishing what comes out. I can’t really explain it, it’s almost like an auto-pilot sort of feeling, surreal, but whatever this is, it’s my lone gift in this life, so I’m going to spend the rest of my days, writing every day, for an audience of ghosts, & digital readers with their little icon avatars, occasionally dropping a “like,” but for the most part, no one reads a word of this drivel I spew out. None of these writing jobs see any value in my uniquely authentic literary language, so either I suck as a writer, or they’re all scared to hire someone like me who writes about TRUTH, in a world of scripted narratives. Wait, there’s no one else like me, so I suppose I’m fucked, yes? Oh well, fuck em, not bending the knee to get a shitty paycheck for adding “wokeness” somewhere in my endless list of resumes. Nope, can’t do it, won’t do it, I guess I’ll just be a broke failure. The proverbial “starving artist,” or maybe “pseudo-artist,” because perhaps all these words I write don’t mean a fucking thing to anyone. Wunderbar…(fart noise)
Ugh, what a mood. Just an overall feeling of being COMPLETELY fed up with Clownworld life. Can one of you donate $10k so I can go to Costa Rica before I drive my beater of a Beamer right off the next cliff I come across? Gah, it’s so fucking frustrating, when you have the self-realization that you’re worth more, but humbly you simultaneously realize you’re a total dumbass. What do I know besides this? Oh wait, I know how to grow good weed, does that count for anything? Nope? Nope they say, it’s another relatively useless “skill” I can add to my post-it note of attributes. Oh no, I have the “drunken blues” it seems, even though I don’t drink, haven’t drank in forever, & certainly NOT drinking for this stupid “holiday,” if you wanna call it that. Just another excuse for Americans to burn more brain cells. Drink up though, ya plebs. “Bread & circuses,” been a great tactic for 2000 years, give or take a century, so why stop now?
I don’t know, I don’t know anything anymore, but speaking of “stopping now,” that’s what I’m about to do, because this ouroborosian essay has found its own tail, & is eager to eat it so I can shut the fuck up already. Nonetheless, have a fun time getting drunk, puking on your drunk girlfriend, right before she pukes on you, then waking up tomorrow feeling like hell, with puke all over yourselves. Yay, fun fun fun. The difference in mentality between you’re 25 year-old self & your middle-aged self is night & day. I used to live to party, like literally, with ZERO inclinations toward a future for myself, a family maybe, a nest egg, but nope, it was ALL about the party, as if it would never end. Such a fucking delusional idiot I was, & still am, & I can’t change, because this is who I am apparently. Of course the party is done for me, & I’m well-aware, but everyone else who lived like me is dead. EVERYONE, & that’s not an exaggeration, they’re ALL dead, & it’s just me left. Like a battle, where all your friends died fighting, except they were only fighting themselves, & they lost. Meanwhile, me, myself, & I am the only soldier left standing, wondering why I’m still here, & where my old friends are now. Wow, such surreality, only me, only one left. Why?
Great question, thanks for playing. I wish I had an answer; selfishly I wish I had the answer for myself, not for anyone else. I’m fresh out of friends, haven’t seen my family in like 6 years, something like that, got massacred in the crypto crash which took everything I had, EVERYTHING, they took it all out of my diamond hands like they were made of rice paper. Stone sober the whole time; I spent years after getting clean building my stacks, then making amazing trades that got me well into 6-figures before POOF, a financial train wreck into a multi-car pileup, & I was smack in the middle, so I lost everything. EVERY FUCKING THING, gah. It’s been months & I can’t shake it. Maybe I need a drink, or a lobotomy, fuckin hell, I just wish I could shake it off already. Maybe I can’t, because this is not the first time I got hosed for all of my stacks. It’s happened like 4, maybe 5 times now, & I can’t understand why. WHY????? WHY YOU FUCKER IN THE SKY IF YOU’RE EVEN UP THERE, WHY??? Fuck, it’s like I’m cursed or something…maybe I am, who knows?
Hard to say what’s even real anymore here in this backwards-ass upside-down timeline. The Great Recycler, The Great Mouse Trap, The Capstone Club, just what the fuck is going on in this world? Is ANYTHING real? It sure doesn’t seem to be, & most of the population would rather get drunk on the poison their overlords offer them on street corners across this once great nation, now the USSA, The United Socialist States of America. I just coined that, don’t steal it. Actually, you can take it, I really don’t care, because it doesn’t matter, nor does anything else for those of us down here in these trenches. Nope, 99% of you, of us, are stuck in The Great Mouse Trap, & all the booze in the world won’t get you through the exit door. Regardless, drink on up Americans, & eradicate those synapses in that wet noodle atop your neck. Obviously, as always, this applies to all of you, & none of you at all. Speaking of that Nietzschian paraphrase I use, “for all of you, & for none of you at all,” what do you think the late Friedrich would think of this maddening pseudo-reality they’ve manufactured for all of you?
He’d laugh, because he predicted this. It’s truly amazing, if you have ever read his work, how accurate he was about societal degeneration. I mean look around, Idiocracy has become reality, & that was not supposed to happen, but it did, & now, we’re all stuck in it. Too bad the overall global complacency is unprecedented in scale, as it’s equally amazing how utterly uninformed most people are. Doesn’t matter though, it’s party time, shots for everyone at the bar, on me. Try the 3-headed cow, it’s delightful. I created it for idiots who act like idiots when they try to order “the bartender’s favorite shot.” Oh my, bartenders just love when they hear, “Make me your favorite shot,” & when I would hear that, I had a special shot I’d whip up especially for the aforementioned idiots. Want to know the ingredients? Here we go; the infamous 3-Headed Cow: tequila, scotch, vodka, rum, lemon juice, milk, shake all the ingredients with ice, strain into a sugar-rimmed shot glass, then hail to the sacred cow. Down the hatch, & good luck if you ever drink more than one of these God-awful shots. Ugh, are you kidding me, who would drink that?
They did though, many times, many times saying they wanted another. That’s drunks for you, & the bartenders of America are balls-deep in the weeds right now, feeding you drunk fuckers into respective states of unpredictably dangerous intoxication. Isn’t it odd that during that time when we allegedly had no toilet paper, & a bunch of of other stuff was “temporally unavailable,” yet there was more than enough booze & cigs for everyone, isn’t that weird? Nope, nothing weird going on in America, nothing to see plebs, slam those beers & shots, because today is “Drinking Day, ” the one day of the year to celebrate all of the comedy & tragedy that alcohol has brought to the masses, arguably more of the latter, but who cares?…I’m done with the digressional tangent talk, & done with this article that maybe 10 people will actually read, if I’m lucky. Check out these stats…I’d be embarrassed, if I cared, but “caring” about anything anymore is no longer something I concern myself with. When you have nothing left to lose, literally NOTHING, then nothing matters anymore, right? So what’s left to “care” about?
Okay, this has turned into a 5-page essay for fuck’s sake, yikes. You’d think one of these companies I apply to would appreciate what I do exclusively for this unwavering daily discipline I possess, but apparently they don’t, for reasons unknown. Most likely, it’s my content, & they’re scared to hire a wide-open thought criminal dissident. Also, I’m an un-jabbed straight white male, so right out of the gate, I’m 3-strikes out. Drats. Fuck it. Until next time, dear readers, write until you reach the end of the marathon, no matter how far you have to run. So sayeth FisH™…🎣
For all of you, & for none of you at all…🐡
“Write until the race has been won, no matter how far you have to run.” ~Fish F Fish🎏
EaT~aLL~YouR~FisH™ 