I’ve got a confession to make. I like alcohol, I like it a lot. An American that drank as much as me would probably spend at least three weeks out of every year of their life in a rehab clinic. Americans are strange. The main problem I have with alcohol is not health, work or relationship related. The problem I have is alcokleptomania… a terrible compulsion to rob shit when I’m drunk.

I’ve robbed all sorts of things whilst under the influence, things I don’t even want, things I don’t need. I don’t really know why I do it, I’m usually so fucked when the alcokleptomania kicks in that I don’t even know about it until the next morning when I wake up and see someone’s licence plate and a 24 pack of yoplait yogurts on my bedside locker. Don’t ask.

But today I seek forgiveness for my crimes. I can’t go to church because last time I went there it induced a near-fatal case of boredom in me. So instead I confess to you, the public… The public that doesn’t know who I am or where I live, incidentally.

So here I go:

I once robbed a bottle of Sambuca from a bar. The bartender was chatting up a girl at the end of the bar when I sneaked around and shoved it up my sleeve (of all places). Didn’t get caught. Didn’t feel guilty.

I once robbed a mobile phone at a party. I couldn’t even use it because it was switched off and I (obviously) couldn’t guess the pin. Threw it into a bin down town.

Another time I was at a concert and I tried to rob some guy’s coat. The dude collared me and I had to pretend that I had a coat the same as his and it was an honest mistake. He should’ve beat my ass right there but he fell for my convincing lies. I went back later and robbed his coat when he wasn’t looking. Idiot.

I went to see Pearl Jam in the Point and got seriously, seriously twisted. Don’t even remember going into the place. Woke up the next morning with a concrete hand in my pocket. From a statue I presume? ? ?

I once robbed 13 glasses, 6 ashtrays and a barstool (all in one night) from a Rugby Club bar. Note to rugby club owners: When a drunken cunt shows up at your bar with an empty sports bag and leaves with a full (clinking) sports bag, you should probably stop him at the door.

Another time, I was at a crazy party in an abandoned house. Got really fucked. Probably the most fucked I have ever been. Woke up the next morning with a high-nelly bicycle in my bedroom. I then noticed I was missing my wallet, my phone and one of my shoes. I don’t really know if this one counts because it might have been a drunken exchange(?).

But lastly, and worst of all, I once robbed a car… my neighbour’s car… at only 15 years old… on Christmas Eve. Could it get any worse than that? Yes, I crashed the fucking thing. Worse still? I got fucking caught. Son of a bitch.

So tell me, is this shit normal… or do I need help?!

1. 
   Nonny said...
   1:27 am - March 5th, 2008

   “Woke up the next morning with a concrete hand in my pocket. From a statue I presume? ? ?”

   For some reason I laughed for a good five mins at that. It was funny. I picked a barmans keys up once. It was an accident. For a good hour and thirty mins, we looked on bewildered, wondering what all the staff were doing running about the place. When I realized what I had done I was too embarrassed to admit it, so I brought them with me.

2. 
   H said...
   1:21 pm - March 5th, 2008

   Ha! That reminds me, I once stole the keys to my local McDonalds, locked the staff into the restaurant then threw the keys into a skip. My friend wasn’t used to this kind of evil tomfoolery so he fished out the keys, opened the door and gave them back. Bah!

   Never feel bad about taking anything from a bar, those cunts rob us on a regular basis.

3. 
   Pinkie said...
   8:26 pm - March 5th, 2008

   My da had a stroke a few years back and one side of his body is paralysed. His leg isnt too bad, can amble around with a stick and all but his right arm is fucked. Anyways, couple of years ago we had set up the xmas decor and got teh crib on the tele. Some gobshite put Jesus in the manger before Christmas Eve so I whipped him out and stashed him up the arse of a snowman (dont ask)
   So we were doing the christmas shopping late at night in Dunnes. My da was stalling as he does being able to only crawl along at a depressing speed. Me adn my brother got out to the car first and my da comes ‘bating’ (relatively) out of the shop and hops (relatively) into teh car all happy with himself. He had only gone and stole Jesus from the Dunnes crib scene on the way out!

   Feck’s sake.

   I think you do need help.
   But not for the alkokleptomania.

   (pardon the typos, my fingers are feckin freezin!)

4. 
   H said...
   9:07 pm - March 5th, 2008

   Sounds like my kind of man, an opportunist!