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This blog contest is supposed to be all about partying, but it's probably best that I tell ya'll up front that I won't be drinking. I have nothing against alcohol, but, hell, after last year, the last thing I need to do is become involved in field research into the worship of Dionysus.

My last really big drunk involved peach moonshine and dinner with a lesbian friend. No, it wasn't as fun as it might sound. That marked the low point in my then-burgeoning practice of using alcohol as a coping mechanism. I decided enough was enough and have only been drinking sporadically (and generally lightly) since.

So, just so ya'll know, I'm planning to remain clear-headed during my pursuit of debauchery (and $500).

As usual, the whole conflict ended up being worked out in a poem.

www.audioblogger.com/media/56101/409835.mp3

Thirst

Give me a beer, something god-damned and bitter
-- an emperor thirst needs slaking.
There is a parched desire within, a desire for blindness,
a desire to cleanse away all the maps. The territories
want their forgetting, after all.
So give me a beer, something god-damned and bitter
-- or give me of the Lethe, that backwoods
pisswater the dead keep raving about.
There's no rest here. Doors want their closing. Windows
grow weary for lack of shade. I don't desire such keenness.
Let the edges dull. Let me cultivate some rust.
So give me a beer, something god-damned and bitter
-- something that I can wear like cotton,
something to be wrapped in like last night's sheets.
Give that lovely oblivion. Let me sleep.

--"Thirteen", September 17, 2006