Oh, lord, I just LOVE this part of the ride!!! Tits up. Tits to the wind. Hell, even tits caught in a door. Especially revolving doors. Or perhaps even so gone I can't even remember what I named them. Which, BTW, is Patty, Maxine and Laverne. Remember, I have three of those puppies... Laverne is the small one. Enough on that...
I have been so bloody drunk in my life (on multiple occasions) that I have puked just about everywhere and stuff has come back up out of me that would surely have scared Linda Blair. Under picnic tables, on picnic tables, back seats of cars, exits, car consoles, car floor boards, punch bowls, front yards, out of windows of cars, houses and the occasional cruise ship, mail boxes, shoes (mine and others), sinks, toilets, garbage cans, both above and below the equator, both sides of the International Date Line, most of the worlds oceans, my shower, your shower, a safety deposit box, the women's shoe department of Nieman-Marcus (don't ask!!!), on several domesticated animals, the Lourve (oh, hell, just FUCK France!!!), an elevator or two (NOT pretty) and my highlight, on an emu in Australia. Which, BTW, was indeed projectile. I blame that one on the six-pack of Black Swan Lagar tall-boys. I didn't even know that emu's could go all deer in headlights but that one sure did!!!
Hanging a leg off of the bed to "steady" yourself is one thing but grabbing the floor for dear life brings a whole other dimension to "just how fucked up am I???". I was so gone in Hong Kong one night I actually thought the wall was the floor. No wonder I couldn't find a decent center of gravity to lie down with. The hotel actually charged me for the nail marks I left in the wall. OK, and the puke stained lamp and carpet as well. Yeah, the bedspreads too. What can I say, I really am the ugly American when I set my liver to it...
How I make it through Customs and Immigration amazes me. I have pulled some of the strangest shit out of my luggage imaginable. What is up with the six bottles of Mexican ketchup, the dried squid from Macau, that "thing" from Korea (yes, that is the only way I can describe it. I still don't know what it is!!!) and that jar of stuff from Panama that is still slowly congealing in the back of the pantry. Hell, I'm surprised monkeys and reptiles of unusual size have not oozed out of my suitcases. Thank god the TSA has finally started to limit me to less than three ounces of weird shit in my carry on!!! It's probably for my own good...
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