Hi, I'm Jess, and I'm gonna be writing here whenever I feel like it and am not hung over or incarcerated. I'd like to thank Ehren for this opportunity, and for the glowing introduction that I cannot possibly live up to. Thanks, buddy. I'll be sure to tell the next girl you date that your penis is ten feet long and can cure lupus.
I apologize for the delay, but my last month or so has been spent attempting to weasel my way out of my first stab at an actual relationship in five years. Needless to say, it didn't go well. Honestly, I don't know what I was thinking. Maybe I was subliminally affected by a Valtrex commercial. Or maybe I'm just getting old, and subconsciously I wanted to someday squeeze out a little Jessling so I'd have someone to leave my collection of obscene shot glasses to. Either way, I think the lesson here is to stick to what your good at. Michael Jordan abandoned his career in baseball; John Travolta has learned that he is not a director. Me? I'm much better at hate-fucking people I don't give a shit about than regular-fucking people who don't give a shit about me. And anyway, he was getting fat.
So now that we've gotten to know each other, I have a confession to make: I was only joking about the hangover thing. Although the allusions Ehren made about my alcohol tolerance are 100% true, I'm currently preparing to enter my sixth month of court-mandated sobriety. Apparently the state of New York has decided that my behavior has been "dangerous" and "irresponsible" and that the best course of action would be to "fuck me in the ass" with a "pitching wedge" without "leaving the money on the nightstand first." I bet you didn't know that the judicial system could keep you from participating in a completely legal social activity. Well, they can! And pay attention, because this could happen to you too.*
*Note: Chances are this will only happen to you if you are arrested for an alcohol-related offense after several failed attempts at escape and one successful attempt at cop-biting, and then skip out on probation because fuck them, that's why. But I digress.
In the interest of public service (that's some shit that sober people do, right?), I decided to kick off my first blog post with some helpful advice in case you're ever forced to give up your distraction of choice.
- In the beginning you're going to find yourself with a lot of time to kill, so consider taking up some interesting new hobbies, like pottery or golf. Mine are snorting methadone and vomiting uncontrollably, usually in that order but not always.
- The sheriff's department will be cruising around your usual hotspots looking for you, so remember: disguises are your friend! I'm a traditionalist, so I like to stick with the old standbys of ghost (pro: total coverage, con: no mouth-hole) or Nixon (pro: easy to find, con: you will not be getting laid). But feel free to use your imagination. Whatever you do, though, I find it's always best to add a prosthetic pregnancy belly, because no one will look twice at a pregnant drunk Nixon attempting to flush a pinball machine.
- Always have a backup plan. If you get caught, how does John Q. Law know that you don't have an identical twin who also likes Jack Daniels and stealing road cones from the courthouse parking lot? They don't. Incidentally, the identical twin alibi is also good for when you're caught chugging a beer on the Jumbotron at Giants Stadium (THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENED).
- Don't get down on yourself. Sure, you're not as funny or interesting as you used to be. Sure, the zesty thrill of anonymous sex has dissipated. Sure, you're going to look like a douche at most social events holding a club soda. Sure, the opposite sex is infinitely less attractive and their anecdotes suddenly suck. But ... I forget where I was going with this.
1 comment:
Lil T, I miss you! I just started a twitter account, but I barely use it. Do you have a facebook page? You should email me your name and I'll look you up.
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