Spin Dry

[ThirstyDrunk]

I see you looking at me, catching a glance as you fold your clothes. You wanna know what's in my flask? Just ask. But you're too scared. I may be right here next to you in this shithole laundrette with the filthy walls, half the washers will steal your money or ruin your clothes, dryers full of dog hair and body odor, but I'm better than you and you know it.
I am a Drunkard.
Why are you here? Was the one down the road, the nice clean laudromat, with the smiling attendant, was it too busy? Well I've been coming here for years. I only come here because there is no attendant, noone to sneer at me while I drink and watch my clothes spin. Noone but you. You and me. And I'm better than you. And you know it.
I'm multi-tasking you see. Wouldn't you rather be catching the proper drink buzz that should accompany this mundane task? Wouldn't this chore be much more enjoyable, something to look forward to, if you could tipple a nice intoxicating beverage? You'll never know. You are afraid. But I know. Because I am better than you.
I am a Drunkard.

[Screwball]

I call bullshit.

You wash yer clothes in a creek banging them on a rock.


Wait, are you talking to a badger? If so, Rock On!

[The Limey]

Ok...and the moral to this story is? That you're better than the foul wretched old hag that's using the same shithole laundry as you?

[ThirstyDrunk]

I got no fuckin morals.

[Mr Boozificator]

Ok...and the moral to this story is? That you're better than the foul wretched old hag that's using the same shithole laundry as you?

The conclusion of this story is that being able to do routinous things drunk is better than simply and borringly doing them undrunk. Something every functional drunkard has to agree with.

[beerkegbilly]

What is in your flask I ask

Hey I wash my cloths on some rocks today deon't make fun it was cool I spend my money on more beer

[ThirstyDrunk]

Thank you Mr. Boozificator, that spells it out quite nicely.

For you see, I have found a way to INVOLVE my drinking into everyday tasks that some may find to be a dreadful chore. To me, it is an adventure, a high stakes real life thriller, one that deserves the planning and execution of an operation similar to those carried out by Israeli Defense Forces.
On my way home I scope out the area of the intended mission and see that it is just as I suspected, only one inhabitant who seems to be on final spin. Good, this is good, and I immediately put this intel to use in my plan of entry and domination.
I get home and seek out a bottle of Buffalo Trace. After two good pulls on this, I make moves to locate all fetid and foul smelling apparel and linens.
What is that stench? Ahh, it's a pile of towels previously used to soak up a stale smelling liquid. Throw them in the basket.
Drink bourbon.
Is that pair of underwear still in the shower? Yes. Throw them in the basket.
Drink bourbon.
Oh yes, there is that shirt that someone seems to have vomited down the front, over int he corner. Using a carom stick, put it in the basket.
Bourbon.
Gather the Royal sack of quarters, fill the flask, a plastic bag with cheap beers, find the detergent. I am ready.

I arrive. I see the soul denizen, a woman, mid 40's, looks like she could clean up nice, probably would enjoy a good fucking. I give her a wide berth so as not to lure her in with the titillating scent of my laundry.
I'm in. I locate the flask and start in. Yes, she is eyeballing me as a stuff laundry into the machines with the determination of a migrating buffalo. YES! The Buffalo that is driving this mission.
One of the machines is a bit off kilter. As it screeches and bangs, I drink. A well thought out plan, I am sur eI have enough munitions to accomplish this venture.
Then comes the drying. To some this is the worst part of the mission, the waiting. I drink cheap beers and work on the flask of bourbon. i think of things that make me laugh. Then it is the final step. I take a good drink and start the segregation and conditioning steps.
That's when it all breaks down. Are you supposed to fold socks? I realize I have T shirts on hangars ans dress shirts folded with underwear. More people are arriving. this is all too much.

Details of the mission from here on out are sketchy at best, but suffice it to say that I woke up at home on a pile of clean, fresh smelling laundry.
MISSION ACCOMPLISHED

[The Limey]

Ok...and the moral to this story is? That you're better than the foul wretched old hag that's using the same shithole laundry as you?

The conclusion of this story is that being able to do routinous things drunk is better than simply and borringly doing them undrunk. Something every functional drunkard has to agree with.

I shall be more careful with my sarcasm in future. And of course, i am in full agreement.

[BenTheBeast]

Being drunk when doing menial or annoying tasks is appreciated by every drunkard...sometimes it's the only thing that makes those chores tolerable.

[beerkegbilly]

I sold my to old bar kept for a night of cheaper beers my morels that is

[Wingman]

Ok...and the moral to this story is? That you're better than the foul wretched old hag that's using the same shithole laundry as you?

The conclusion of this story is that being able to do routinous things drunk is better than simply and borringly doing them undrunk. Something every functional drunkard has to agree with.

I shall be more careful with my sarcasm in future. And of course, i am in full agreement.

alright, then.

this shit is beautiful and needs to be in "submit to..." or some sort of allstar shit.

[ThirstyDrunk]

So over the summer the laundromat has gone through a makeover. New tile floors, nice shiny new machines that actually work when you put money in them, a matted play area for kids, hell they even got a freakin T.V. on the wall. Maybe they are trying to attract a new clientele, a better class of folks with less smelly clothing. But who is patronizing the place? Me. And the best thing is there is still no attendant.
So I arrive only slightly buzzing from beer and stuff my dirty shit in the machines, then sit down and start in on my little helper - a flask of Ezra Brooks 101 bourbon and a bag full of canned Blue Ribbon.
Drink Bourbon.
By the last spin cycle I am laughing and dancing around the empty laundrette.
Drink bourbon.
Alright, lets get this shit in some dryers. There are still a couple old dryers that I know will get my stuff dry quicker because they aren't the new energy saving low power shit like the new ones. These actually get HOT.
Drink bourbon, drink drink beer.
I dance around some more and then sit in the play area, seeing if I can fit the little plastic shapes into the correct hole on this little ball thing (I got about half).
Drink bourbon and before I even realize it I am home with a fresh batch of clean clothes.
Another mission accomplished, thanks to the help of BOOZE!
FUCK ALL

[peetie44]

Another mission accomplished, thanks to the help of BOOZE!
FUCK ALL

Someone once told me that I didn't know fuck all...believe me, I KNOW FUCK ALL!

[Miklo]

Thank you Mr. Boozificator, that spells it out quite nicely.

For you see, I have found a way to INVOLVE my drinking into everyday tasks that some may find to be a dreadful chore. To me, it is an adventure, a high stakes real life thriller, one that deserves the planning and execution of an operation similar to those carried out by Israeli Defense Forces...

...I get home and seek out a bottle of Buffalo Trace...

...fill the flask, a plastic bag with cheap beers, find the detergent. I am ready....

...a woman, mid 40's, looks like she could clean up nice, probably would enjoy a good fucking...

... I drink cheap beers and work on the flask of bourbon. i think of things that make me laugh....

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED

This, had me laughing, yet is true. well written!!!

[Jiggers McCoy]

Chores and drinking. Almosts make me wish I had a lawn so I could slam beer all day outside and claim to be doing something useful.

I like gin or tequila for doing the dishes. Definitely bourbon for laundry/ironing. Bottled beer for vacuuming.