Mr Lunatik drinks One Bourbon One scotch One beer

Hi Ð,

A four-day binge found me in a darkened bar with absinthe in one hand and a housewife in the other.   "What does all this drinking get you?" she asked.  "A headache, a hangover, sometimes heaving," I said. "I was hoping for a hard-on," she said.  

Amaterasu, the sun-goddess, darkened the world in a huff by withdrawing to a cave. Disconsolate gods gathered around the cave and drank sake. Drunk female gods stripped. Male gods applauded. Amaterasu relit to the world to see what the fuss was about. Drunken strippers saved the world.

She met the homeless bum in a park when she was drunk and heading home. She took him home, bathed him, shaved him, bedded him and wed him Less than two weeks later; he was back in the park. Can't beat that fresh air.

The Nigerian's offers came like a drumbeat: "Get you girls, mon.  Big ones. Small ones. Tight ones.   Loose ones."  Drunkenly I asked: "Got any goats?" "Hold on," he said, "I will check."

"Idiot," she yelled.  "Shut up. Go spend your money on hookers."

"You stupid old bag. Why do I bother coming to see you?" he asked.  Thus ends another night of revelry at a bar I frequent. She, the mama san, is 84.   For forty years he has been there, drinking to excess, having conversations like this.

The drunk crawled behind the police box, tipping over the line of police bicycles.   He kept crawling, clamoring up onto the pile of disorganized metal, getting his hands trapped between the spokes and not making much progress.  He sighed, and went to sleep on the tangle.

"I like dick," the Californian told me after her third drink.  She didn't seem to be talking about Richard Nixon. "I don't care if it's on a girl or a boy." Waiter, can we get some strap-on service for table three?

He keeps panties in one pocket, in case he sees someone to model them for him, in the other pocket he keeps a hipflask of bourbon, for the courage to ask.

Too tanked to walk, I crawled home in the snow. Exhaustion hinted that I wanted to roll over into the cold white blanket, but I resisted, knowing it would be the big sleep.

Too tired to knock, I banged the door with my bloody forehead  She screamed when she saw me, "What happened to you?" she pleaded.   "Just another night out," I mumbled. 

Cheers, Mr Lunatik