and now for something completly different

I woke up this morning with growing pains in my legs. What the fuck is with that? Maybe i'm going to be 7 feet tall by the time I die. Allen Ginsberg is fucking great!

I ordered a salad as my main course last night for the first time. It had shrimp in it.... I'm glad I'm not a vegertarian.
Q: Why are the servers in this city all so hot?
A: Because many of them are, and if not, keep in mind they are serving you ALCOHOL.

My substance abuse log is going incredibly well, here it is from last night (in no specfic order):
1 bottle of beer
1 glass of red wine and then 1/4 of a glass of red wine.
1 shooter, and 1 glass of red wine.
1 gin martini. 1/2 of laurens drink cause she didn't want it.
1 glass of beer.
1 rye and ginger. 1 shooter. 1 shot. 2 more rye and gingers.
1 jenney's wet (a.k.a large girly martini... you didn't order it)

and now for a poem:

my relationship with my guitar

I've known my guitar for a long time now. Infact I can't really recall any time without her around.
She's always been there to pick me up when I was feeling down.
Get those funny feelings out from my loins.
Stand on a street corner, help earn some coins.
I've worked her in over the years.
Been drunk and mistreated her after too many beers.
The wear and tear of our relationship shows.
Sometimes I just used you as a place to hang my clothes.

But I must admit, from time to time I get annoyed with her.
She sounds flat, stale, and the other guitars begin to seem more appealing.
I see them in other players hands, they aren't around, I contemplate stealing.
I pick them up, take them home. Play em slow, play them hard.
Good for a night, and then discard.

I wake up the next day and I feel guitly and kinda sad.
What have I done? I've fucked up so bad. So easily ingored all the good times we've had.
My true baby is calling me back to her.
I pick her up, as if I never left. Tell her I love her, and stroke her softley.
Hope that she'll take me back, and of course she always does.
Treats me better then I could ever deserve.
She's sweet, familiar, and easy to play.
Whispers things in my ears, and tells me the right lyrics to say.
I feel bad and go out and buy her something new to wear.
New strings, a capo, and softer picks to show I care.
I love my first guitar, I hope she never leaves me.
Hey that piano over there looks like she would be a good time.