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I down the beer, only to realize it’s stale. Fuck. It’s past 1:00, and all the liquor stores are closed. Even Wal-Mart, despite being open 24-hours, refuses to sell booze after one. Fuck.

Why didn’t I realize I was running dangerously low on God’s precious gift? Who knows. I probably shouldn’t drink. I have to work in six hours. Fuck. Doesn’t matter. Regardless of how much sleep I get, how little I drink or even what I eat in the morning, I’ll still feel like shit. I’ll still feel as hungover as if I downed an entire fifth of vodka the night before.

I’m not complaining. Dear God, I don’t want to be a complaining blogger. But, looking over the past two paragraphs, I think I am. Fuck. I didn’t want this post to turn out this way. I just wanted to talk about drinking and how fucked up my town is, that a dude can’t get something to drink in the middle of the night.

I need to end this on a high note. Two dudes walk into a bar. It’s after 1:00. The sign says closed and the two dudes walk home, sober as hell.


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