Chase Our Painting And Writing With Drink And More Drink
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I remember when we were back in school and we were close friends. His mom had just died from cancer that year and his dad was deep, deep, deep into the drink. He was raising himself at that point. It didn't help matters that I didnt have much supervision either. We leaned on each other that is for sure. A painting could be made about every night from those years and every morning was cloudy and hazy and there were blocks of time missing and we would start it all over again and we would chase our painting and writing with drink and more drink and other stuff that puts people in jail and with no supervision it was a life that was equal parts Bukowski and Henry Miller and I'm not sure how we made out on the other side in one peice. Well, maybe not in one piece but we made out and here is to him and for still being there even though there are miles and years between us and those days... Enjoy!
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