Now with sober commentary!

I know that I promised, but...

This being a Friday evening, I was inclined to go bowling with some friends. Now I've been bowling enough to understand that it takes some degree of skill and almost no degree of athleticism to excel in. But this time was different. I learned of the Beer Frame. The Beer Frame is where each bowler makes a strike except for one. That one bowler must hen buy drinks for all the rest.
Hen they didn't even card me.

There, that's your exposition.

Now it is five in the morning and I have dank pitchers of beer, smoked many parliement lights, and dove off of many a roof. Into a pool, of course.
How do you spell "drank" and "parliament"? The lame correct way, I'm sure.

Curse being 21. I still cannot handle such freedom.
I meant "fredom."

Well, let us type then unceasingly and see what comes of it. The worst that happens is that I edit it a bit and try to pass off with a shred of dignity. I doubt that will happen.
Now I seem to be two people...

My dreams torment me. I don't know why exactly. For example:
Did I just say that I don't know why and then say why?

I dreamed that my younger brother Donaldo arrived home from being in Iraq. In my dream, I looked him in the eyes. I put my hand on his face, and I grabbed his shoulders and shook him to convince myself that he was real. And I was convinced. Then, as happens in most dreams, I woke up.
I didn't have any superpowers anymore, either.

I have been wounded tonight. I am bruised, scratched and scraped. I'll live. And it is worth it.
I jumped off of Scotty's roof into his pool. It took me several tries to climb up.

I enjoyh myself in this state. Regret is a luxury I do not have time for.
Lying.

Dammit, when you feel the flame of passion and you can not raise a spark TV showin their heart...utter defeat.
Now this is the most confusing line here to me. I think I was composing a song about a video camera with a dead battery. That or it's about impotence

I think I can make this the last time. Drinking to this point, that is. Hell, I can not drink altogether, see if I cAN'T. her I go. I should be a reality show. Then I can edit myself out of every shot and probably have a hit.
At this point a brass band started playing, people began applauding, confetti rained down, and I raised my glass in a toast to commemorate the one thousandth time I said I wouldn't get this drunk again.

Happy Deathday!
Your name:	ENTER USERNAME
You will die on:	Thursday, August 7, 2031
You will die of:	Fall from Great Height
Username:
Created by Quill

And thanks to Trevor I can see that I will probably not learn my lesson and stop clambering onto other people's rooftops. Nor will I stop being an alcoholic, because it will happen on a Thursday, not even a weekend.