Skullard's Booze Theory
I get back to my truck after a delivery and there's a Tahoe parked in the space in front of me. Plenty of room to get out, no problem. But I can't help but notice the bold-printed sticker in the middle of her back window:
"HEY, WUSSY BOY!"
What could have possibly been the provocation for that? This lady (I'm assuming it's a lady) wants to flick me shit? She doesn't know anything about me! I don't know anything about her either, though I'll assume she's kinda agressive and likes stirrin' the shit. And apparently she can afford the gas to run a Tahoe.
Honestly, I wished I had a post-it pad. I woulda loved to stick up a little note just under her sticker.
"HEY, WUSSY BOY!"
'Sup, Skag!
~*~
Dad-in-law and Lady are coming to visit tonight. Always a fun time with these two. You can't help but want to hang out with people who love to laugh. PLUS they're going to be buying Luka drinks. You have never been to the triangulated center of funny/silly/cute until you've hung out with Luka with two or three blender drinks inside her.
I have a very uneducated theory that alcohol doesn't so much alter a person's personality as amplify what's always been there at the core. My dad, when he's schnockered, is a smiley, happy guy. My mother-in-law is a loud, offensive bitch (and sometimes she gets drunk). And Luka becomes a one-woman comedy show. I've often thought, since I've got the iPod, that I should liquor Luka up, put a microphone in front of her, and turn it into a podcast. Lord have mercy, I could sell advertising that shit would be so much fun.
Oh, and in case you're wondering, what am I like when I'm drunk? Usually asleep, and it takes only one drink to do it. When it comes to booze, I'm a wussy boy.