I was drunk because I’d broken a tooth and didn’t go to the dentist.
Its a crippling pain that shoots from my ringing ears, through my face, and throbs into the base of my neck. I finally broke down and had a pain killer. That didn’t do much so I poured a couple of whiskeys on top. Ahhhh, the warm relief of a manageable dull pain.
I was listening to an old CD of The Frogs that Jesse had given me. How can I explain The Frogs if you haven’t heard em? Well, imagine some of your weirder, drunken friends got especially high and recorded a made up album from the point of view of a drunk old pedophile serial killer. Its horribly offensive, absurd, and pretty funny.
So I was loaded, listening to The Frogs, and laughing. But then I would see and hear my best friend Jesse, who died last year, laughing and then I would start crying. Of course The Frogs were still playing and I’d realize that I was sobbing while some song about goat fucking was playing. Then I’d laugh even harder about the absurdity of it all; the laughing and crying, the mysterious beauty of everything. Death and humor all mixed up with the people that you love. The people that you love, disappearing forever.
My wife walked in on me and I laughed and cried a bit more in my explanation. I told her how all my thoughts and emotions were colliding… the entire spectrum of emotion happening all at once. She smiled knowingly.
“Thats exactly what its like being a women,” she said. And I laughed…
“24 hours a day,” she cried.
