And Merlot make an unlikely team. A team of renegades if you will. And I'm so broke tonight that I'm pathetically attempting to rile a faint high from Merlot. 16.5% alcohol content...and I'm trying my damndest to make it count. The salty bland taste does nothing for the imagination. I'd like to picture this as a bottle of nicely chilled Vodka or a few rough shots of warm Rum. Speaking of Rum...never let your mind wander too far when enjoying the beverage. I've never come so close to suicidal thoughts as I have on those rare occasions I actually decide Rum isn't so dangerous. It does evil things to certain minds...my mind definitely being one of those. Trying to drink yourself out of a pill-stooper-full-on-depression is not the route you should take...trust me. This I know for sure. I've run out of oxys and now spend my lazy days dreaming up schemes on how to score some more. I don't even really like them...but I find scoring drugs an easier job then an actual occupation. My Uncle refuses to rehire me, my father's too busy nailing his secretary to set up an interview with me, and well my only other prospect is going back to the porn store...for some reason I can score those jobs easier then anything else I've ever tried. Maybe it's my come-hither sexuality or maybe it's the fact that I don't mind going into a 15 minute discussion on why the mammoth-14incher-(only in black and pink of course) is much better then the stealth-like-10incher-dildo-(respectfully done to resemble the most life like of life like penises). Or would it be PENI...due do plural-ness? Either way...I look forward to those conversations more then I actually look forward to anything else in my days lately. This is long and drawn out...I think I'll go down some more wine in my getting-wasted-attemps and come back with better material then reality. Word. Check. Check. 14incher anyone? -alexander the meander