She's my only true love
She's all that i think of
Look here in my wallet
That's her
She grew up on a farm there
There's a place on my arm
Where i've written her name
Next to mine
You see i just can't
Live without her
And i'm her only boy
And she grew up outside McHenry
In Johnsburg, illinois

My birthday just past, and it was great having lawn sprinklers as my alarm clock. It's OK, I needed a shower anyway. As I was waking up, I thought how did I get here? Where were my friends? How can I trust them? Then I thought, Ya know who I really don't trust?? Camels..., or anyone else who can go a week without a drink ( Read more... )

I'm convinced that it all started in my childhood... I mean my dad is my hero, and he was also the town drunk. Most of the time that's not so bad, but New York City ( Read more... )

I was thinking...again... that it only takes one drink to get me drunk, but I can't remember if it's the thirteenth or fourteenth. Oh well.... its not like I waste my money on drinking, I mean I have spent a lot of my money on booze, girls, and my car. The rest I just wasted.

I like beer. On occasion, I will even drink beer to celebrate a major event such as the fall of Communism or the fact that the refrigerator is still working ( Read more... )

I was thinking about some of the Greek philosophy I have learned, and I was reminded of how it is better to hide ignorance, but it is hard to do this when we relax over wine. It's like every time I drink, its a diffrent experience, for example, I could not step twice into the same river, because other waters are ever flowing on to me.

My Grandmother is over eighty and still doesn't need glasses. Drinks right out of the bottle.

It's the reason I drink, I mean I drink because I was abused by my parents when I was a kid. They did terrible things, like locking up the liquor cabinet and refusing to buy me wine.

My life as influenced by Oscar Wilde: It seems to me that its true, a man can be happy with any woman, as long as he does not love her. Is that where it lies, or is there a center of goodness to be shared, loved, cherished, and held true? Or rather is it when one is in love, one always begins by deceiving one’s self, and one always ends by ( Read more... )

I was thinking, maybe not all that clearly, but anyway.... that depression is just anger without enthusiasm. It’s an empty beer bottle with no one worth throwing it at. That thought reminds me of the time I got so drunk I woke up in a tree. Which wasn’t so bad, except the tree was in a different state than I started in. I call that being ‘Cross- ( Read more... )