The Fire Ants of Sobriety

"Listen to this. This is from the Herald Tribune, about the protests.."

"Who the hell reads the Herald Tribune? Where did you get that paper?"

"Just listen. This is from an article about the protests in Malaysia over Salman Rushdie receiving British knighthood. Listen to this sentence:"'We consider this another major affront to Islam by the infidels,' said a Taliban spokesman, reading a statement from the group's leadership council..." Since when did the Taliban become a legitimate voice in current events commentary? Why would Reuters be quoting a statement from a Taliban spokesman about anything?"

"Are you going to be yelling like this all night?"

"'Vincent Bugliosi just received the highest honor an attorney can receive. Let's go to Corcoran State Penitentiary now and see what Charles Manson has to say about it!'"

"OK, Dude, I get it. I get it. Can you just lower the volume a little?"

"All right. I'm sorry. Being sober is like having an army of fire ants in my shorts."

"Then have a drink with me."

"No."

"Fine. Bartender! Another Stella over here and a hairless vagina for my friend. How long have you been sober?"

"Little over a month."

"Izat all? And you're already this annoying?"

"Shoulda seen me last week."

"And for how long will this dry patch stretch?"

"Five years."

"Ah, you're goofy."

"And you smell like feet."

"It's the ointment."

"Sure it is."

"Five years?"

"May, 2012."

"Why five?"

"Gives me six months of hard partying before the end of the world."

"Oh. Mayan calendar."

"Yep."

"Can I talk you into an OxyContin?"

"You're shittin' me. Is that why you've been scratching your thighs like a junkie?"

"No, my thighs itch because I was unlucky enough to snap one off in a patch of poison oak last week."

"OxyContin. Isn't that the drug that Limbaugh had his hired help copping for him?"

"I don't know."

"The stuff that contains the same opium from the same Afghani farmers that that disingenuous gasbag likes to sneer at?"

"Hey, I didn't get it from him, OK?"

"What were you doing in the woods?"

"Shroomin' with the big trees for a spiritual connect."

"Jesus, what have you been reading, The Dharma Bums?"

"What's that?"

"Some dim-witted Kerouac piffle for drunks in search of justification."

"What's that say on the crawl up there?"

"What? Oh, TV. Why is there a TV in this bar? Don't we go to bars to get away from stupid shit like TV?"

"No, we go to bars to get drunk, so I don't even know why you're here."

"I'm here to read the crawl for you, ya blind bastard. Um..oh, something about Round Island One."

"What's that?"

"That's where Bill Gates lauders all his money."

"Like an offshore account?"

"Sort of. He shaves about $500 million off his annual corporate tax bill by funneling the billions he makes from the licensing fees of copyrighted software code through a bullshit company in Ireland, where the taxes are cheaper."

"So, what's the matter with that?"

"Well, the software code originates here in the States, so the taxes on the profits from that code should go into the U.S. Treasury."

"So he's a scofflaw?"

"Yeah, but his bean-counting goons use accounting tricks to make it all look legal."

"Gee, what a fine American."

"See? Sobriety shines an unforgiving light on almost everything for me now."

"Then, why don't you have a drink?"

"Because blackouts are worse."

"How 'bout a bump?"

"A bump? What is this, 1986?"

"It'll put a smile on your face."

"You're mistaking a smile for the grimace that comes from grinding teeth. When did you become such a walking medicine chest?"

"When I got tired of being a grumpy old fuck like you."

"An unforgiving light is not necessarily a bad thing."

"It is in a bar. Take a walk."

Copyright 2007 John Bizarre