Curing Writers' Block

Me & a friend went to an art opening at a place called Transformer but when we got there it was too crowded & they were only serving white wine so we headed across the street & got a couple beers at the P Street Bistro when another friend convinced us to meet him in front of the gallery Transformer, but when we got to the gallery he was already squeezing himself out of the front door, leaving the picture window full of people behind us we headed around the corner and got a couple six-packs & then around the next corner to my other friend's apartment where we talked, listened to internet radio, & I took some pictures of the snow off the balcony until it was voted we head back down to the big opening at the small gallery, yelling & drinking on the sidewalk as I arrived. And there was a surprising tolerance for me (except from my good friends) because the people seemed to realize that in my drunken state I was searching for material & from the sidewalk the circles were formed & groups of people, poets, artists, drunks start the pilgrimage around the corner to the Black Cat to get some beer - where I continue to drink & yell & compliment the girls as best I can with leering eyes & a swollen tongue & to get a beautiful girl's attention I pat her butt but only after realize what I did, and that it pleased me so I took the liberty too far & patted her bum again, but this time she replies in a pleasing voice, (extremely tolerant of me realizing that in my drunken state I am searching for material), "Now never [to] do that again." I agree to disagree, bite her face as a cannibal might and say goodnight. Me & a friend head to Yum's Carry-Out & go back to his house & drink beer & eat Singapore Rice Noodles & I get up to use the bathroom & test his scale & I realize that I have gained a steady 10 lbs. a year the past six years of my life & pass out on his living-room floor, but he seemed extremely tolerant realizing that in my drunken state I am searching for material