mere fucking = mental infibulation

i can count on one hand the people i know, or have known, that pass the 'daylight test': with whom i get along equally well, if not more so, whilst sober and sunlit. with whom i greatly prefer to be sober and sunlit with, actually. one person is s. the other is my ex. and that should be enough, if i weren't so hellbent on sabotaging my sense of self-respect on slurry slutty shenanigans that leave me ashamed and disgusted the next day, if i didn't find myself feeling guilty and apologetic for my stupid behavior, if i didn't feel so fucking shitty for, however inadvertantly, leading somebody on. my being staggery-drunk is no fucking excuse; when a mouth comes at me, i don't need to fucking kiss it, especially if i don't want to. i am under no fucking obligation. and if i walk away feeling like a three-dollar whore, well, i deserve to.
i turn into the most loathsome prick-tease when i drink; that is, when i'm not loudly amused by my own wit, or sniveling into my vodka, or confessing things i don't recall later. i fucking know better. and my embarrassment now is compounded by resentment that somehow, in a better world, those around me would know better also: they would have the self-worth to say "yuck, this is definitely not worth it. i know she's not interested. she's just a flaky twat who can't hold her liquor and who thrives on hypocricy. why would i take advantage of a gap in our judgements?"
thank fucking god i at least have the sentience to keep my legs together. thank god i am inherently prudish. or protective. or as t is fond of saying, "once you listen to led zeppelin you can never go back to poison."
in less titillating news: 'colour me kubrick' is, on the whole, a rather annoying movie. canned saag mateer is actually quite tasty. sixteen horsepower is good driving music. the darkened streets of newcastle would be prime spots to dispose of a body. and when t said "ooh, the band you got me into" and put savoy brown into the hi-fi and i said "yeah, this is my fucking cd" and 'tell mama' came on, i had to turn quickly towards the window so i wouldn't start crying at how sad it is when the most familiar things change so utterly. those moments i might, in a better mood, consider *poignant* and *life-affirming* are currently just depressing as shit.