Drunken Friday the 13th Post

I really, really want to see the new Friday 13th movie. I normally don't go in for horror re-imaginings like this, but the TV ads look good and the posters look even better, and there are guys walking around in Jason costumes outside of the AMC theatre at Dundas Square. If it weren't for my hatred of lines and fear of large groups, I'd probably be at the late show right now.

Also, I overheard an obnoxious douche-bag that I work with saying that he couldn't be paid enough to go see that trash (in reference to the guys in the costumes promoting the film at Dundas Square, which is just down the street from my office), and that has made me want to see it all the more. It's funny how spite can be so motivational.

I'm thinking that I'll check it out after work on Monday. Tonight is all about drinking big cans of Molson and watching Cloverfield and playing Final Fantasy: Crisis Core.

Drunken Friday Night Post, 2009 Edition

New Year's Eve was a couple nights ago, and I feel like it has come and gone in much the same way as the new GnR album - a lot of head-scratching and murmured wondering about what all the fuss was about.

All the people on the evening news seemed to be feigning excitement about something, and all of my coworkers seemed to be pretty concerned with having plans to celebrate something, but I'm not really clear on what everybody was so excited for. Personally, I wound up spending New Year's Eve playing Star Wars: The Force Unleashed and drinking enough Finlandia to knock me out well before the ball even dropped. (I woke up at about 4am to the drone of a television test-pattern - I didn't even know that they still have those!). It was pretty much just a regular Wednesday night for me.

Remember New Year's Eve back during the switch from 1999 to 2000? Now that was one for the books. Everybody was convinced that the world was going to destroy itself. All night, the news reports kept checking in on the places that were in earlier timezones to make sure that they were still there. And for once it wasn't such a big deal to have no party to go to, because half of the planet was camped out in their basements with their cases of bottled water. I think that was my favorite New Year's ever.

Drunken Friday Night Post, Part III

My neighborhood consists largely of big houses that were probably pretty nice at one time, but have since been divided up into apartments (it also seems to consist largely of crackheads wandering the streets aimlessly, but that's another story for another time). Anyway, as I write this, some people that live in the house next door to me are having a huge-huge-huge party. It's awesome. For the past hour or so I've been sitting here in the dark under my kitchen window drinking Smirnoff and listening to the drunken chatter of all the smokers on the porch next door.

What I am doing may seem sad and even a little creepy, but they've got a pretty good party going and this is honestly the closest I can realistically expect to get to big house parties. Even if I were ever invited to something like that (a pretty big if), I'd never have the balls to go. Nothing makes me more uncomfortable that being in a big group of people, especially if that group may potentially include former asshole high school jocks. And the truth is, I'm having more fun than I'd care to admit sitting here enjoying some drinks while listening to their music and laughing at their jokes.

I'll probably get bored in a while, or my upstairs neighbor will probably call the cops, but for the time being this is a great Friday night.

Drunken Friday Night Post, Part II

Fuck, I love Fridays. They are by far the most the most liberating day of the week. And the most liberating thing to do on the most liberating day has so far involved liberating the contents of a bottle of Cranberry Finlandia.

Fridays are not liberating in the sense of a group of college kids singing "Baby Got Back" at karaoke night at the campus bar - no, they're liberating in the sense of a Pontiac Solstice commercial. Really liberating.

Don't ask me what any of this is supposed to mean. I'm a little too liberated.

According to tonight's itinerary, it's now time to play Metallica in Rock Band until my upstairs neighbor complains.

Drunken Friday Night Post

It's Friday night, and I'm both dripping wet and sloppy drunk. Wet because my kitchen faucet exploded earlier, and drunk because that bottle of Stolichnaya wasn't going to drink itself.

(Apart from the whole kitchen faucet soaker incident) tonight has been totally awesome. I just finished watching the new episode of Battlestar Gallactica, and now I'm listening to Iron Maiden and celebrating every few words that I type by pumping my fists in the air and emitting a resounding Yeah! from my lower abdomen. I think my neighbor upstairs is pounding on his floor in a sophisticated attempt at articulating that he would be grateful if I were to
shut the fuck up, but it’s too loud to hear him and I'm too drunk to care. Yeah!

The remainder of the night is going to play out in one of two ways: either I play Guitar Hero until I pass out in front of the TV, or I watch movies until I pass out in front of the computer.

Thank God It’s Friday.