Hangovers, Old Age, New Pussy
If you're smart you drink water and take 2 Advil before you go to bed. If you were smart you wouldn't have gone out and boozed up at all. If you were smart you wouldn't have taken that girl home because you could have gotten 2 more hours of sleep. If you were smart you would have just stayed in and read the Bible. But alas, you are a male. And alas you are sometimes in pain and the only ease of that pain is booze and easy pussy.
So you wake up.
You are 25. Your eyes hurt now that you are older. You get headaches now that you are older. You have to drink water and Mountain Dew to stop the shakes. You have to check your hairline in the mirror. You have to really scrub your face and body hard to not smell like booze all day. You attempt to squeeze your widening ass into a pair of jeans. You have to exchange warm remarks and yet still shuffle the hussy out of your house in time to get to work. You have to dodge your boss all morning. You have to eat breakfast. You have to shit. You have to hide your booze habits in social engagements. You have to make excuses to why you smell and look like crap. You ignore phone calls from the girl you just had your dick in and from your friends who missed last night and who tonight want to go out and booze their face off.
You are 20. You bounce out of bed and head to class. You maybe grab a bit to eat as you run out the door of your unlocked domicile sort of waving goodbye to the slam pig you brought home. Put your hair anyway you want it because you are a fucking star. You throw on whatever lays on the floor and a smart t-shirt. You stroll into any social engagement bragging about your booze prowess. You have a rock hard cock for most of the day and as you putter around from starlight station to starlight station you manage to align a new piece of ass and yet another engagement for boozing that night.
I'm a fucking star.
If you're alive you booze and celebrate. You cry and laugh and scream and smile. You huddle together like a football team that has no more plays to call. They only stand in a pack rehashing old glory plays. But there is a game young man. There is a game to be played all around you.
Where are the rules?
When is it halftime?
Where are the fucking cheerleaders?
Where are the cheerleaders that I used to fuck?
Why are they all fat and annoying now with Misty 100's hanging out of their mouth and really bad dye jobs?
Where is the coach?
Why did he abandon our team and leave us without a stadium or a uniform?
Why the fuck do I care?
You shouldn't care. Do you know why? First off you are a human being. That in itself pretty much means you are indestructible if you want to be. Second, you have a soul. And that my friend allows you to booze all you want on a Thursday. That allows you to take home and fuck anyone you want. That allows you to miss old girlfriends. That allows you to be 20 any goddamn time you want to. Just with less hair.
