I am fucking drunk

I drank enough bourbon tonight to make Willie Nelson piss in three different directions at the same time. And now I'm drinking beer. Here are some incoherent ramblings based on what I've experienced on this trip thus far:

According to a tourist guide I picked up in the airport {Louisville has tourists?) ninety percent of the country's disco balls are made right here in Louisville. First of all, who are these interloping mother fuckers making the other ten percent? Get off of our turf, fucknuts. Also, is there really a market for disco balls? Do they sell them to VFW posts and bad high school prom committees?

I was at a bar tonight and the band had a one-legged guitarist. They used his removed titanium leg as a tip jar. Swear to God.

I haven't been on the right side of town to see mullets. I'll have to look for some tomorrow.

After we left the bar we ate at a place called LaBamba's whose slogan is "Burritos as Big as Your Head." The place is open from 11am till 5am and I think it's only one shift. Those are some hard working mother fuckers.

Really, once you turn thirty you should lose the high school class ring.

I see three keyboards right now but I'm aiming for the one in the middle.

I'm at my friends Dave and Alisha's house typing this. It's Alisha's birthday. She's as drunk as I am, but she's too smart to try to blog in this condition.

I've been driving my mom's Rav 4 around town. My knees touch my chin in this car. That's safe to drive, right?

All right, despite heavy competition this is my worst post ever. See you guys on Tuesday.