mcgrew's Journal: The Return of Lucy Furr

Previously: Lunch with Evil-X

I hope I didn't get laid last night, because if I did I would have been lousy in bed.

I don't even remember going to bed. I should stop drinking.

Charlie was gone Friday night, so I had the house to myself. She was still gone Saturday morning, so I ate breakfast, watched an episode of STNG, read a little HHGTG. The last book, I can't remember the title, but Arthur just lost Fenchurch and some wierd little dead animal was staring with one eye sticking out of the remains of its crushed skull when I put it down.

The book, not the dead little animal.

I had five bucks in my pocket. Pretty good, almost payday and I wasn't completely broke. Especially since I made a big payment to the CC company, paid the car payment and utility bill. Not much was left after all that, but I need to stop paying all that interest. The mortgage company is gouging me for what the CC companies have been gouging me for. Meanwhile, the people who are tripling my adjustable mortgage payments are getting a government bailout.

The Blue Grouch has draft pitchers for $3.50 on Saturday, so I thought I'd call Linda and see if she wanted to drink a little beer. She said "sure" (of course), so I dropped by there to get her. She and Tami were outside Ralph's empty house; they were waiting for his daughter to show up and get the keys. They'd rented an apartment not far from my work. Tami's alien husband, who she calls her ex even though they're still married, is allegedly sending her two hundred bucks a month. She'd got him in some kind of trouble with the Army for not supporting her. Meanwhile she's looking for a job; the two hundred only pays the rent. Nothing left over for utilities.

"Guess what? Asshole's going to Iraq!"

"No shit? So you might be a widow, cashing in on that army pension. Sweet!"

I went to the Grouch without them, they said they'd walk up later after Ralph's daughters came. I got a pitcher and asked for a plastic glass with ice. I floated it in the picher to keep the beer cold, and a cute chubby blonde college kid came up and started chatting with me. If I didn't know better I'd think she was flirting.

"Ingenius!" she said. She looked like she might have been a slashdot reader. I don't remember what her name was.

I talked with her for a while and she moved to a table with thrree other nerdy looking college girls. Tami and Linda came in and sat on each side of me. I poured them beer, and three young fat guys came in and sat down on the other side of Tami, all three wearing T-shirts that said "I [heart shape] anal".

"What does that say?" Tami said. "I love anal? What the fuck is that about?"

"I can't do anal" I said. "My dick's too big." They all looked uncomfortable. "Uh," the one in the middle stammered, "so's mine." The girls laughed.

The other guy said the shirts were a protest against the Curve Inn, who had barred them. The backs of the shirts read "Fuck the Curve Inn".

They were pretty obnoxious, I could see why they'd been barred.

A bus pulled up and a ton pf people streamed in wearing Curve Inn t-shirts. Apparently they were having something called the drunkard's olympics or something. These people were even more obnoxious than the fat guys with the anal tshirts. One woman kept blowing a loud whistle, and it started getting on my nerves. I politely asked her to stop. She just gave me a dirty look and blew it again.

I called her a dirty fucking whore, at the top of my lungs. And I've got BIG lungs.

"Hey!" the guy with her said, "that's my girlfriend!"

"I feel sorry for you, then" I retorted. Fuck that creep and his stupid whore.

He apologized for her and offered to buy me a drink. I thanked him and declined.

Tami, Linda and I went out in the beer garden; it was a really nice day. For the drunkard olympic the Grouch had one of those carnival things where you swing the mallet and something slides up and rings a bell if you hit it hard enough. Only at the top it was a naked woman (not a real one) with her legs spread, and the thing that slid up to the top was a penis.

"Hey!" Linda said. "Look at that! It's a dick!"

I pitched in my last buck fifty for another pitcher, and Tami and Linda bought a third. I had Tami drive home. They were relieved, because they couldn't get in their apartment for another week.

Amy and Connor showed up, I think they had beer but I was drunk and my memory of it was dim. They left with Linda, who was supposed to buy more beer or something. Charlie showed up, and it seemed a little uncomfortable at first but she seemed Ok with Tami, who she had been cursing only a week earlier.

We got to bed late, Charlie on the couch, Tami on the "new" bad that was hard and lumpy and me in my daughter's room. She's living in Cincinnati now, so she's not using it. Tami said she didn't want to take my bed from me, and I told her no, I insisted.

After we went to bed Linda showed back up and there was a lot of arguing, and she left. I didn't bother getting up and never did find out what the ruckus was about, but I assumed it had to do with Charlie and her feud.

The next morning we all slept very late. I was up first, but the girls were awake within ten minutes. Tami understood why I'd insisted on using my daughter's bed.

"God, my back is killing me!"

We watched a DVD, Charlie left and Tami and I went to Felber's. Linda walked up as we were getting out of the car.

Three or four pitchers later - five? I wasn't counting, we went back home. Linda left, and left us with a bottle of some really nasty whiskey.

I have a terrible hangover. And another roommate - somehow I let myself be talked into letting Tami move back in. But I can really use the two hundred bucks rent...

Next: Just Shoot Me!

Drunkard's Olympics?

[The Gaytriot]

Drunkard Olympics sounds like a lame version of the Beer Olympics I went to during the opening ceremonies. Then again we didn't have any dirty whores with whistles, just a couple regular dirty whores. I think they have to level up a couple more times before they get their whistles.

Re:

[mcgrew]

It wasn't really called that, but I forget exactly what they did call it (I'd been drinking, after all). It did have "Olympics", maybe "tavern olympics".

I doubt she was really a whore, but most women hate being called "whore" and I was going for the jugular, the bitch really pissed me off.