Bryan Joiner

The people spoke long ago. I drunk blogged, and they were like: Hey, do more of that! We like that. When you write sober, it’s boring but you’re flippant when you’re drunk. And I was like: “Flippant?” And they were like, yeah dogg. And I was like okay then.

But now is the first time since then that I’ve manned the keys while under the influence of le booze. Check out those italics. Makes you dizzy, doesn’t it? Or is that just my dizziness? I went downtown at about 6 tonight, when the sun was setting behind lower Manhattan. I took the Q so it went over the Manhattan Bridge and I could see that shit. It was awesome. Then I drank hell of beer at two dive bars. At one point, I thought an extremely attractive girl was winking at me. She was winking at Edgar. I’m used to this. I drank some more.

So now I’m here at home, drunk blogging. I’m not sure this is any sort of narrative. But isn’t this what blogs are for? If not, what? Hey, this is fun: I walked from Astoria to my house this morning. I’ll spare you the other details but it took almost 3 hours. Forty-five minutes of this walk was spent amongst the Hasidim. FORTY-FIVE MINUTES. I mean, I know generally where they live but Cot damn I didn’t realize there were that many in south Billyburg. Not that I cared. Someone told me tonight they would have felt out of place walking like that. Not me. I don’t give a f*ck.

That * is a u, by the way.

What am I watching on mute now? “Coca-Cola: The Real Story Behind the Real Thing” on CNBC. I guess I was watching the Olympics and never switched over.

Okay, I’m going to bed. Over there.