almost okay

Lord help me, I'm drunk.

But that's what you all wait for, isn't it? Marty gets nice and fucking entertaining when he's got a few fucking beers in him, doesn't he? He's a regular Sammy Petrillo, that fucker.

“I'm Charlie. Where the fuck are my goddamn Angels?” said Marty, pretending he's fucking Charlie...you know, of 'Charlie's Motherfucking Angels'.

Well, no more. I'm not in an entertaining sort of mood. I'm actually kind of down. I don't give a fuck if you morons ever laugh again. Get me? Fuck you. AND the motherfucking horses you rode your asses in on. Fuck those motherfucking horses, too, goddamn it. FUCK YOU ALL!


It's just another fucking day here in Detroit, you know. Another fucking Hump Day. I worked maybe two whole hours and drove back and forth to Ann Arbor, got hot as fuck and soaked to the bone in drizzling rain. It was just enough to mess up my hair. The first three pints were taken one bar, another one at the second place, then two more (which I really didn't need) at my third stop, The Bar.

Hey, the fucking Tigers lost, okay? They LOST! Fucking Tigers...

I'm listening to music...mostly CD's. I've gone through the Isleys, Keishia Cole, 'Death Proof'. Now I'm listening to 'Coffy' the soundtrack. Hello, PAM! I LOVE you! Fucking Roy Ayers...Coffy IS the color! I LOVE YOU PAM GRIER! There, I said it.

I spent too much time tonight trying to figure out that MY SPACE bullshit because I really wanted to send Angel Kelly an email. HELLO ANGEL KELLY! I LOVE YOU! I'll get there. I'm just drunk. Did I mention that? Loaded. Pissed. Fucked up. Half in the bag. Wait a minute. I think I'm all the way in the bag. Did I mention that I'd been drinking?

Hello? HELLO? It's Marty. I'm drunk...NO, I said DRUNK!! I LOVE YOU ANGEL...

Who is this? I love you whoever you said you are...