Drunk Mail Bag

Readers, it once again is time to dive into the drunken mailbag. That’s right, as you know from time to time I like to read your questions and comments. To give them their full weight I read them while dropping my morning deuce. After long rumination I respond to them here in my column. First up, to gratify my gi-normous ego, fan mail.

Dear Drunken Years,
I have been reading your column since the beginning. I like your funny insight into culture. You’re so witty and you remind me of a younger, handsomer Zack Braff. Keep up the good work, beautiful!

Sincerely,
John E. Gay
(via email)

Thanks John for those positive words. It really motivates me to know that someone out there appreciates me for what I am and not how damned sexy I am. Now, any more fan mail? …

No? Okay, on to hate mail then. Any of that? How many bags?! Okay, we can do one or two.

Dear Drunken Years,
You’re an idiot! You can’t write, you can’t fight, and you can’t hold your liquor!

-Angry passerby
(via him yelling it at me)

Sorry if I don’t remember you, sir or madam. People yell that at me all the time so faces tend to just blend together. However, to address your points: first, I am writing right now. Booyah! Two, I’ll give you that. Ouch. Three, however… I concede to you as well. But last Tuesday I successfully avoided becoming blackout drunk. I drank a pitcher through trivia, switched to a liquor drink during happy hour and alternated that with a coke. Twelve dollars later I walked home. My BM the next morning was the rankest liquid I have ever seen. I really gotta stop drinking well liquor. It’s like eighty proof Draino for the gastro-intestinal track.

Dear Drunken Years,
Why do you suck so bad?
Norma_J1963@bellesouth.not

Words like that do nothing but insult. No understanding can be gained. And coming from you mom, that really stings. Enough hate mail. Any questions? Questions about me. Not about me sucking?

Dear Drunken Years,
Did I see you riding your bike down Baytree?
L00ks@Ubik.ing
(via made up email)

Yes, that was me. I’m like a ninja on my bike. Like a bike-ninja cyborg or something. And I have wings. I consider Baytree my home turf since it lies between home an work, which we’ll call The Turf. I know those side walks like the backs of my hands. That’s a new freckle… the city recently upgraded all the sidewalks, installing ramps at every curb. Maybe soon they’ll do the same to the sidewalks around VSU– some blocks near campus don’t even have sidewalks. My common sense says that in a college town there should be sidewalks on every block within a three block radius of the campus. Most buildings there are either student housing or off-campus college services.

Dear Drunken Years,
I see you at the bar and you always wear cool hats.
Top_of_my_head@fedora.net
(via CIA radio signal to my molar)

Well that’s not really a question, more of a comment, but alright, fair enough. Actually I wear the hats for two reasons. One, to be quirky. You cannot understand how important that reason is.
Two, I used to wear bandanas but finally realized what Brett Michaels hasn’t– I’m too old to pull them off. Not only am I old, ancient by bar standards, on the doorstep of thirty, but I am balding. I’m at peace with the male pattern baldness, I just wish I had a say in the pattern. Consider me an angry gardener with a bad sod job. On a lesser note, the grays are coming. No, not the aliens– they won’t arrive until 2012. No, I’m getting gray hairs, have been getting them for a few years now. Those I’m not worried about. If I ever succumb to utter vanity I can always dye away the grays. Then again gray hair looks dignified on a man. On a woman it makes her look old, or like a witch, or like and old witch.

Dear Drunken Years,
Got any good drink recipes?
N_E_bri8ed@yaeger.bmb
(scrawled in Sharpie on urinal)

Yes! There’s the Miley Cyrus– a double shot of Kentucky bourbon on the rocks with Mountain Dew. Or the Courtney Love– gut-rot vodka up with a splash of coke and three cigarette butts. Makes a great frozen drink as well.

Thank you for all you warm emails, letters, ticking packages, boxes of feces and powdery white substances. You can continue you hate and contempt for me on the interweb.
TheDrunkenYears.blogspot.com, twitter name: john.e.gay, or by cruising over to ValdostaToday.com and clicking on the ‘Entertainment’ tab.