Disclaimers:
Summary:
Warnings:
Notes:
|
"
by
Have you ever had that feeling where you feel like the entire world is laughing at you, and suddenly you realize something's very, very wrong? Like you're naked on a public bus? Or about to perform Madam Butterfly and don't know the words? Or you've suddenly turned into a purple cow with green dots all over?
I'm getting that feeling right now, and I have only one thing to say about it; Moo!
Really, don't listen to me right now. My mind's a mess, and I just wanna go lay down and die. I don't really think I should, though, but it would be nice... Argh! What am I thinking?!
This is all Jim's fault, you know!
If he hadn't been such an ass and gone out on a date tonight, I wouldn't have been sitting here with stupid, stupid thoughts in my head, an almost empty bottle of beer in my hand, seven empty bottles on the table in front of me, some animated Disney movie playing on the TV and lots and lots of depression resting on my shoulders.
Stupid ass!
He's a good-lookin' ass, though... No, wait, arrgh, bad thoughts! Think about something else, something that's not Jim! Beer! No, wait, no more beer, beer bad, and oh *God* I'm drunk!
I've consumed almost eight beers in... Wow, when did my wristwatch become this difficult to read? Uh, never mind. What movie is this? Something about... uh, a flying carpet? No, a monkey? No, maybe a castle? Ah, never mind. I think there's something wrong with the tape, 'cause there's two of everything. No, wait, now it's three.
Wow. Three monkeys in a row. Who'd have thought that could be this interesting?
Ooops, I burped. Sorry.
I finish the beer in my hand, then stand up to get another one. Beer good. No, wait, beer bad. I know I shouldn't, but I have this desire to have passed out when Jim comes home - if he comes home at all tonight.
I just *know* he'll come home either with his date in tow, and then they'll spend the entire night having hot, sweaty sex which I have to listen to if I'm conscious, or he won't come home until early tomorrow morning, smelling like hot, sweaty sex which I have to smell if I'm conscious...
Ergo - unconsciousness, here I come!
I grab another bottle of beer out of the refrigerator and scowl when I see that we're almost out. Hm, didn't Jim buy two sixies not too long ago? Like... today? Well, we're almost out, now. Only... uh, this is the... ninth? Then... hm, twelve minus... nine... Three? There's three left?
Dang it, it's not enough to pass out from. I bet the big guy has some whiskey or vodka or something liquor-ish stashed away somewhere. Or wine, maybe?
Liquor-ish... He-heh...
I plop back down on the couch and continue to stare at the TV as I open the beer and take a large swig. Oh, look, there's still three monkey's on the screen. I giggle.
Ugh, I never giggle! I'm too drunk to handle this.
Handle what, exactly? No, this definitely isn't the best time to start thinking, Sandburg! Just go back to drinking your beer, and then see if you can raid the Neanderthal's apartment and see if he's got some liquor stashed away somewhere...
Yeah, just drink your beer and be depressed.
Why doesn't Jim love me? Huh? What's not to love about me? I'm handsome, I'm nice, I'm a good human being? So why doesn't Jim Ellison love me?
Oh, great, Blair, start blubbering on the couch.
I really need to pass out soon.
The Sentinel is the property of Pet Fly Productions.
All series, movies and characters are the properties of their respective owners. No infringement of those rights is intended. All fics on this site are the copyrighted property of their respective authors.
Site and design copyright © the other g.m.
All Rights Reserved.
