The DMS syndrome and its role in my downfall

I suffer from drunken SMS syndrome. A seriously debilitating disease that affects me almost every night. In the past my cellphone didn't support saving outgoing sms and so the next morning i was content with just reading the reaction to the chaos I had caused. My new cellphone is rather unforgiving that way. Like a graphite shaft 1 wood for a 200 yard shot instead of a metal shaft. You can now realize your mistake the instant you make it. And consequently live with it for the duration of the week.

Ususally, with my old phone, I would send out some nonsensical love essemmesses to women I just recently met and therefore screw up any chances of conjugal bliss. For that matter conjugation at all.

Now I can take corrective measures in the morning, when after a close scrutiny of the sent messages i can conjure up an alibi for the madness of the night before. Gettng dumped, losing a close uncle, (And believe me I have a lot of uncles to lose), being witness to the sight of my friend's dog become a roadkill, (I also have many friends), and my trump card, domestic violence and sexual abuse. I've actually gotten over the last two but it's a good card to flash when it's convenient.

The one good thing that comes of this affliction is that I have realized that I'm deep down a very deep person. I'm not superficial at all. Once drunk, I care for neither race nor religion, age or state of physical well being, economic disparity or beauty. I sms regardless of the fact that the woman I'm smsing is as old as my grandmother's nanny or the fact that she has a Saigon eye, a Normandy leg and a retractable clit. My emotions are not swayed by any of these factors.

It's only when the roosters come home to crow in the morning that I realize my folly and the magnitude of the blunder I've made.

Last call for Alcohol

So you’ve gone and done it again
The Tequila told me so
I’d just dropped by for a stupor
When I came to know

When the Tequila was done talking
The Beers picked up the strain
The Whiskey chipped in with his deep baritone
And the Vodkas hummed the refrain

The Bourbon alone kept his peace
Perhaps he knew my plight
It’s been the friend of many a broken heart
Till the wee hours of the night

And soon the bar resounded with
The dashed deed you’d done
And I had no choice but to comply with
“Free Drinks for everyone”