everything sunny all the time always.

a-bone:

there is nothing i hate more in this world than when people name drop. or brag to me about who they’re friends with. or what guest list they are on. why dont you try and impress me with something actually cool to say.

fuck. 

abukowskiaday:

sometimes when everything seems at
its worst
when all conspires
and gnaws
and the hours, days, weeks
years
seem wasted—
stretched there upon my bed
in the dark
looking upward at the ceiling
I get what many will consider an
obnoxious thought:
it’s still nice to be
Bukowski. 

“PAY ATTENTION TO ME.”

abukowskiaday:

you are on the freeway threading through traffic now,
moving both towards something and towards nothing at all as you punch
the radio on and get Mozart, which is something, and you will somehow
get through the slow days and the busy days and the dull
days and the hateful days and the rare days, all both so delightful
and so disappointing because
we are all so alike and different. 

thefrenemy:

The things I think about at a bar:

• Fuck, I don’t have enough cash. I never have enough cash. But I just took cash out, like ten minutes ago. Is this because I have suddenly started eating cash as a snack? Is this because of the one time I just started chewing on five dollar bills like a cow? Should I start a tab with the fifteen dollar minimum or should I take out 40 bucks with the 1.99 ATM cover charge?
• Well, I won’t spent 15 dollars at this bar, I’m only going to have one drink. I’ll give them cash. Here is my rolled up cash.
• Oh, wait, I drink like I just found out I’m getting a divorce. I drink through a funnel. I burn money and shove alcohol in my gaping maw like it’s ‘going out of style’ which is a stupid phrase because I don’t eat legwarmers or denim shirts. Which have been in style at some point.
• How did 30 dollars worth of booze get suddenly shoved down my mouth like I am a duck being force-fed nutrients after an oil spill this is why I’m POOR
• Why can that one chick pull off ‘grunge with platinum hair’ so well? The last time I tried to dye my hair blonde, chunks of it fell off in the sink and every time I turned the oven on I forgot my own name. Maybe I should dye my hair blonde again, I looked good, but I don’t think I’ve ever dyed my hair blonde.
• That’s an attractive guy. Is that a tattoo of his food stamps? Should I buy him a beer or a block of cheese? Why do I like the people I like?
• There’s that other attractive guy. Good thing he has the most angelic Asian girlfriend who can pull off ‘crop top without muffin top.’ Not that I approve of crop tops. What is this, an Olivia Newton-John workout video? She looks good, though. I’m single.
• Wow, a guy is looking at me! He seems as if he wants to fry my skin in peanut oil and then eat my skin. My skin would be tasty, I guess. All fried skin is tasty. Should I go on a diet? I’m kidding, I hate yogurt, even the raspberry cheesecake kind.
• This extra beer is a great idea. I should spend my money on an extra beer, and not on going to the museum of modern art like I tell my parents I do.
• Let me balance this beer on the toilet now. I have to pee approximately..oh, ten or 36,000 times in the next hour now. Let me squat once, then let me measly thighs give way as I sit down and, well, this feels wet, but it didn’t look wet when I first sat down here.
• It’s a song people know! Should I cheer and whoop! Jason DeRulo sings his name! Why am I feeling the sadness of a thousand burnt out suns?
• Most of my conversations would be substantially Rain Man if I weren’t holding a drink in my hand.
• You watch _________ this show? Let’s talk about this show. I’d rather watch TV than be talking to you, but okay. No, I don’t watch Breaking Bad. YES I KNOW I SHOULD, INFORMATION STATION. 
• Cool, my super attractive friend is getting hit on by everything that fucking moves, including the beer can that is sliding across the bar via its own condensation. I could probably go to a bar with a Muppet and it would MEEP and it would get more play than me (did I just think play??). Maybe I should start doing something ubersexual, like stripping under the stripper name “Shitty McNugget”
• “Shitty McNugget” kind of reminds me of how I want to dip everything I encounter, even people and cute dogs, in sweet and sour sauce. Could I be with a man who likes dipping things in barbecue? No, probably not. It means he is too ready to have kids. 
• Maybe somebody would notice me if I sliced open this couple grinding against each other on the dance floor with a knife. Is she giving her the Heimlich? Is she having a seizure? Sometimes I think dancing is pressing against somebody and moving around like you are blindly trying to find a key.
• I should text somebody. I shouldn’t do that, so I’ll drink again until I can’t spell and forget that’s a bad idea. I’m a functioning member of society, by the way.
• Bartender! You can come over here, bartender, but if you ignore me for thirty minutes I’ll still give you a tip. Good, give that vodka soda to that sparking Big Bird blondie over there. I wonder if she knows the ABCs, but I feel like that is being a bit too generous to her intelligence. Maybe she can get to the letter X.
• You have a band? Let me throw up into your cup right now, because that’s how much I care.
• I’m kidding, you didn’t talk to me, I’m just imagining that you have a band with the word Death in it.
• Hey guys, have you read that Courtney Stoddard has a twitter? I grieve deeply because I know who that is.
• If this bar exploded, I would feel sweet relief.
• Maybe this outfit would look cuter if I covered it in your blood.
• Maybe this bar would look cuter if I filled it with puppies.
• Why is nobody hitting on me? Is it because I am hissing at them like a bodega cat?
• I’d rather be hugging a bodega cat.
• I hate bars!
• This drink is making me drunk! I love friends and bars! Let’s eat a sandwich and talk about our boy problems! I have some from three years ago.
• Oh, hello friend, let’s have a real talk that involves a lot of head nodding and secret-spilling now, with the swelling acknowledgement that our friend is ‘just not the same.
• No, we can’t because the music is so loud it is creating an earthquake of Pitbull or the Talking Heads.
• Well, I imagine I will regret saying that tomorrow.
• Sure, I love waiting on line to pee.
• Sure, I’ll spend 83 dollars on 60 slices of pizza.
• I savor the I-Pod music, drunk walk home more than anything I’ve ever done inside a bar, ever.
• I want to rip my pants off and go home and eat toast now. What a mighty fine weekend this has been! 
• What is that girl doing? Does she need help? Or should I just watch her drool into her PBR? WHY ARE MY PEERS THE WAY THAT THEY ARE?
• I get it bouncer, I need to give you my ID to enter your exclusive club of wonderment because it is as about as fun as a catheter.
• What if I just set everybody on fire?
• I hate BARS.
• Wait, is that cute guy looking at me? I should get a drink and passive-aggressively walk past him. I hate all the things that are my life.
• BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER, I say as I fall into the bottomless pit. 

GPOY.