For those who knew me growing up, I was a scrawny, shy, mush-mouth of a kid. I didn't come from money. I had genetics working against me. Trust me, no one was looking for me. Yet despite all of this, I was picky as hell. I only went after girls that were completely out of my league. I set high expectations and settled for nothing less. So naturally the only females that gave me the time of day were 3's and 4's (at best). I remember one time in middle school I was asked to a dance by this chick named Susan. Now Susan had a lot of things going for her - she was smart, played the violin, spoke three different languages - ah who am I kidding...I'm reaching for nice things to say. In all honesty she was a beast of a girl with a thick unibrow and yellow teeth that looked like someone pissed all over them. I, of course, asked Amy - the hottest and most popular girl in school. Long story short, I said no to Susan. Amy said no to me.
At the end of the day, my grandfather came to pick me up from school. He could sense that I was confused and distraught by what had played out so he proceeded to ask what was wrong. I told him what happened and he very casually looked at me and said, "life is too short to dance with fat girls." At the time, I'm sure I took his words in the literal sense but I really didn't understand what he meant until just recently. He was trying to say that life is all about priorities. It is important to have a clear sense of what matters to you. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you. Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. With age and maturity, our priorities change. I know mine sure did.
My grandfather passed away last month. Today would be his 88th birthday. So tonight I pour this glass of whiskey to my gramps, to Susan, and to my priorities. Until next time....
Go Fuck Yourselves,
Whiskey Tim
Tom Petty sure as shit couldn't have said it any better....
"you don't know how it feels to be me."
You can go your whole life with people telling you who you are, what you want, and how to do things. Now I'm not trying to get too deep tonight as I'm sure the whiskey is fueling this diatribe but if you ask me, I say fuck them. Fuck them in their stupid assholes. Case and point, the other day a complete stranger approached me as he was entering the train and mumbled "you don't belong here." Now when you live in NYC you hear all types of shit and see all types of crazy people. Some funny as hell, others quite disturbing. To be fair, I wasn't sure if the old man was talking to himself, to me, or the person standing next to me. Regardless, it shook me. The rest of the day went on like any other day but no matter what I was doing, in the back of my mind, I thought about what the old man said. And it made me question: "Why am I here?" "What the hell am I doing in this place?" "Am I in the right job, relationship, financial state?" "Do I have any idea what the next step is?" In full panic mode and near Xanax popping, I went to play some Howard Stern Show on my iPhone (as this tends to calm me down and escape whatever reality I'm trying to escape from). The opening song was Petty. Suddenly, it all made sense. No, I don't know. And it's okay not to. We have all felt this way (some more than others) at times but take comfort in knowing that we don't have to have all the answers. Sometimes, it's the questions that matter. Follow your heart and eventually you'll get it right. When all else fails, roll another joint, pour a glass of whisk and turn the radio loud. Until next time...
Go Fuck Yourselves,
Whiskey Tim
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9TlBTPITo1I
I wish I could tell you where it began. How it all got started. The moment it clicked. For now, let's just say that it was about 5 years ago. A man on a journey in an unfamiliar city with no clear direction and a couple hundred bucks in his pocket. As this story unfolds, we will learn a lot more about this man and perhaps we can help him answer these key questions: What happened that night? Who was involved? Where did it all go so terribly wrong? What was her name? I can't tell you these answers just yet. But if I can "borrow" a few lines from a genius, what I can tell you is that...
Tim hates you all.
A few things that I've learned on my travels through this crazy little thing called life. One, a morning of awkwardness is far better than a night of loneliness. Two, I probably won't go down in history, but I will go down on your sister. And three, while I'm down there it might be nice to see a hint of pubis. I'm not talking about a huge 70's Playboy bush or anything. Just something that reminds me that I'm performing cunnilingus on an adult. But I guess the larger question is why is this big apple so rotten?
Until next time...
Go Fuck Yourselves,
Whiskey Tim
