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Hip Hop Forums => General Discussion => Topic started by: Alcohol Abuser on August 06, 2009, 12:39:55 PM
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So I waltz into my favourite drinkin hole with my usual proud self, conversations are still in lowered voices among patrons as it's just 30 minutes since most offices closed. I raise my index to the nod of the bar man as a sign of approval that my usual "poison" is on its way. Fixed my eyes to my usual secluded corner only to find that to my dissapointment it's occupied already, so I grab a stool by the bar. I gulp my first cold one with a feeling of anger bucause since I have been visiting this place no-one has dared to sit at my corner they know It's mine. After a couple of cold ones I get a "can't let this slide" feeling and began approaching my secluded corner's occupant whose broad shoulders were facing my direction. I do not know what came over me but the verbal slurs which were coming out of my mouth must have incensed the said occupant, the results of my alcohol induced language were a nose bleed, swollen lip and a little leak below my belt in space of 60 seconds. The stare from other patrons made the distance between where I was lying and the door seem too long. I was then escorted out of the place with my limp body over the shoulder of one of the bouncers. The lady who was responsible for my facial reconstruction is now the permanents occupant of my corner. I bear no grudges though, I still "occasionaly" visit the place amid the regular stares. :(
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So I waltz into my favourite drinkin hole with my usual proud self, conversations are still in lowered voices among patrons as it's just 30 minutes since most offices closed. I raise my index to the nod of the bar man as a sign of approval that my usual "poison" is on its way. Fixed my eyes to my usual secluded corner only to find that to my dissapointment it's occupied already, so I grab a stool by the bar. I gulp my first cold one with a feeling of anger bucause since I have been visiting this place no-one has dared to sit at my corner they know It's mine. After a couple of cold ones I get a "can't let this slide" feeling and began approaching my secluded corner's occupant whose broad shoulders were facing my direction. I do not know what came over me but the verbal slurs which were coming out of my mouth must have incensed the said occupant, the results of my alcohol induced language were a nose bleed, swollen lip and a little leak below my belt in space of 60 seconds. The stare from other patrons made the distance between where I was lying and the door seem too long. I was then escorted out of the place with my limp body over the shoulder of one of the bouncers. The lady who was responsible for my facial reconstruction is now the permanents occupant of my corner. I bear no grudges though, I still "occasionaly" visit the place amid the regular stares. :(
shit. ha hahaha!
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ha ha i enjoyed this! :D
dope piece of writing, AA.
we want more!
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ha ha i enjoyed this! :D
dope piece of writing, AA.
we want more!
true dat
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So I waltz into my favourite drinkin hole with my usual proud self, conversations are still in lowered voices among patrons as it's just 30 minutes since most offices closed. I raise my index to the nod of the bar man as a sign of approval that my usual "poison" is on its way. Fixed my eyes to my usual secluded corner only to find that to my dissapointment it's occupied already, so I grab a stool by the bar. I gulp my first cold one with a feeling of anger bucause since I have been visiting this place no-one has dared to sit at my corner they know It's mine. After a couple of cold ones I get a "can't let this slide" feeling and began approaching my secluded corner's occupant whose broad shoulders were facing my direction. I do not know what came over me but the verbal slurs which were coming out of my mouth must have incensed the said occupant, the results of my alcohol induced language were a nose bleed, swollen lip and a little leak below my belt in space of 60 seconds. The stare from other patrons made the distance between where I was lying and the door seem too long. I was then escorted out of the place with my limp body over the shoulder of one of the bouncers. The lady who was responsible for my facial reconstruction is now the permanents occupant of my corner. I bear no grudges though, I still "occasionaly" visit the place amid the regular stares. :(
lmao. can we also tell our stories aa?
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cla**ic piece.... u quiet a writer, a drunk writer...lol
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I am tempted. Nice tale, nothing kills a drinkin ses like someone taking yo spot, hate it
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Ja ne. to lose it to a lady.
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aa i want to be your booze buddy
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You see pride is something I hold dear to my heart, that is why I'm now drinkin an a new bar since my last mishap. This one is more relaxed and most of the patrons are men who wear ties but at this time of the day ties are loose from their necks and shirt sleeves are rolled up. Where I'm from rolled up sleeves at the tavern means "Don't fcuk with me" but here it's different, people talk about their struggle credentials, BEE deals and politics. Eventhough conversations are a bit out of my league guys made me feel welcomed, and most of them drink whisky and smoke imported cigars which some are flavoured(no time for cheap beer here). This day the arguments was about our country's state of affairs regarding the new presidency. My learned new friends exchanged a few big words like impeach,foreign policy and the like whilst I listened attentively with my "whisky" in the hand. I was not commentin until they got to my level and talked about our president and his predecessor. There was also a lady sittin alone who was also listening lime me drinkin her coloured cocktail yu know those with a small umbrella and a half moon shaped piece of lemon... In the midst of my learned friends discussion about the president my new learned self said I should comment. I began by callin the president names and told my friends that he can't control his finances. I could see the dissapointement in my new friends eyes and the silence was deafening as all patrons were lookin at my embarrased self. I retrieved from my new friends to go sit next to the "cocktail" lady with my shattered ego. I asked what's here name and she said "I am Gugulethu" the president's daughter. How I wished I was a roach and AKA was nerby to come in handy with his Baygon. I did not get bleksemed though this time as the patrons here are "civilised" but I'm looking for a new drinking hole "again".
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LMAO nigga u f***ed up ;D
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:D :D :D :D
I take it you were drinking at Cubana, if you are still in Bloem.
Be like me and drink at West End. Cheap booze and lots of hot ladies who are easy. No BEE types and no silliness, since everyone is just there to get hammered.
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How I wished I was a roach and AKA was nerby to come in handy with his Baygon.
kr kr kr kr
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impeach
too funny
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this shit is funny, aa what about my request man?
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so u think ure funny....lol
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Lol. Man AA this thread is perfect for us alcoholics who are not ready to attend the AA meetings that force us to quit against our will. Your stories hit home in so many ways man. I think we should all tell our stories and invite each other to share the same 'drinking holes', so that we'll experience the fun times together.
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"You see m'chana I'm not the one to look for trouble but trouble seem to seek me" those were the last words my uncle said to me before the mishap. I knocked off my usual time from work and decided to go visit my uncle Nsizwa whom I haven;t seen in a while. In my culture missing another male will get you into trouble as it is not considered manly enough, so I make an excuse when meeting my uncle by saying the reason for my visit is that I'm considering doing my annual ancestral ritual and he should first know as he's an older uncle. "I'm the blacksheep of this family m'chana even your mother and other uncles will spit on the ground if they ever see you conversing with me about this matters" said my uncle, ignoring my uncle usual "family politics moanings" I decide to buy him his favourite brew and mine knowing well that it will subdue his sense of "family politics analogy". We catch up on variety of topics with a lough there and there...until the brew leads to uncle's verbal diarhoea(that's why I call his brew laxatives). Diarhoeea's effects depends on how much my uncle drank and today he had a bit too much and that as always can cause problems. Uncle's friend Oom Thabo goes pa** by and greet us, instead of my uncle's polite greeting in return he(uncle) tells Oom Thabo to go f*** himself. Thabo does not take kindly to my uncle's reply and decides to hurl back his best diarhoe(ic) response by calling out Thabo's mother(read my grandmother)'s genitalia. I tried to mediate but It's too late as the old men are already grabbing each other's not so rigid necks. unimpressed Oom Thabo tells me that i'm biased in this whole thing and he immidiately swings his 2litre mqombothi towards me, I duck not raealising the old man's knee reflexes are still intact. The impact of the Oom Thabo's knee and my face is something my pen nor pad can describe. Loud laughs from pa**ersby and sudden bystanders made me wish my intimate embrace with the ground seem forever. I wouldn't wish this embara**ment of being beaten by and old alcoholic even on Rama. I guess I never look for trouble but alcohol seems to hand me trouble on a platinum platter. :'(
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:D :D
nice. funny shit, AA.
have you read Dugmore Boetie's "Familiarity is the Kingdom of the Lost"?
this is it, my dude. you gonna really love it if you haven't peeped it. more than Can Themba, even. actually i can't even describe it right, now.
here's a link to it on Google Books: http://tiny.cc/8Emc2
note: that's just a story, there's an actual book he published, with the same title, his only one (and it's incomplete, but brilliant!). they literally had to force the dude to write. he would ask for advances and then go brew the money, chucking the manuscript under his bed :D. but they knew he was a bit of a genius so they pleaded with him. it's literally one of the funniest, most vivid, well-written, clever and action-packed SA novels i've ever read. your writing reminds me of that book. the drinking, the humourous anecdotes, the familiar voice, the quirky chracters and of course, the beatings, the beatings, the beatings :D.
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It's too bad I don't have any fun drinking stories. When I drink too much, like waaay to much, I just throw up an get kicked out the joint. Not a very interesting story is it?