Nest On (The Maggots Nest Anthem)

Nest On ( My Ode to the Maggots Nest)

By Lizzi Tish

Every time that I look in the mirror
No more Natty Ice and things get clearer
the beers are gone
they lasted from eight till dawn
isn't that the way
Every maggots got a nest where they can stay

Yeah, I know everybody knows where the beer comes from and where it goes
I know the number for Franklin Just hit rocketdial and they'll deliver a new case of sin

Half my life's lived in Nests & Cages
live and learn from my friends drunken rages
you know it's true
all the maggots come back to booze

Sing with me, sing for the Nest
sing for the laughter and sing for unrest
sing with me,
if it's just today
maybe tomorrow the good Beakey will send us away

Nest on, Nest on, Nest yourself a dream come true
Nest on, nest on, Nest on, and Nest until the beers are through

Life Lessons

True Story One evening while laying in bed with her boyfriend and best friend watching the movie Permanent Midnight there was a girl who had recently decided to end her month long drinking binge. Ten minutes into the movie she saw someone with a bottle of beer and was quickly reminded of how good it tastes. At this point she sprang from the bed, dove to her pocketbook and pulled out her remaining gas money for the week. Three dollar bills, three quarters, one dime. If she could find one more quarter she could afford two 40oz of Natural Ice. She started to feel the burning eyes of the people in the room and realized she looked like a coyote hovering over a fresh squirrel carcass and she grew embaressed. She decided pajama pants and flip flops would suffice for this trip and she fled the room and the judging looks from her peers. When she pulled up at the conveniently close Red Apple Liquors, she noticed two very unsavory men; one sitting in a pick up truck next to her car, the other standing at the door talking to the one in the pick up. The one at the door looked like he lived underneath a train station. He donned a tight, tan leather jacket, with those creepy gloves that have the fingers cut off, and a turtleneck covered by flannel. His face was riddled with pock marks, and his mangled teeth the color of nicotene. He was the type of person you could look at and immediately know what he smelled like. She weighed her options of either staying in the car and pretending to try and find something until they left or suck it up and walk in the store. Her hunger for cold, refreshing beer was too dire so she got up her courage and walked into the store. Naturally this guy was standing in front of the Miller High Life's so she did not have to stand too close to him. She was scared because all too often these type of men would hit on her, and she was feeling very vulnerable in her pajamas and tank top. She picked up her two 40oz and headed for the counter where he already was, it was here the two made conversation.

Sleezy Halfway House dude- "Oops ,didn’t see ya there " (as he gestured for her to put her beer on the counter while he was getting his change into his wallet)
Ridiculously Cool Girl- "oh thanks" (as she placed her beer onto the counter nervously)
Sleezy Halfway House Dude "40 ounces huh? You go girl" (smiling through his chapped lips at her) Ridiculously Cool Girl "Nothing but the best" (as she slowly turns the bottle to unveal the Natural Ice Label) Sleezy Halfway House Dude- "Whoooaa Natty Ice to boot, you’re a woman after my own heart" (as he places a hand over his heart on his tethered flannel shirt and walks backwards out of the store, raising his bag of beer to her)
Ridiculously Cool Girl- "Hahha Enjoy!!" (as she turns her attention back to the look of abolute disgust from the Indian clerk she realizes that she just looked into the eyes of her inevitable future)

She leaves the store and chuckles to herself about yet another liquor store experience that has left her heart warm and her smile wide and decided that the people that make her uncomfortable and look like potential rapists are actually her friends.

French Fries and Cigarettes

French Fries & Cigarettes

I sit out in my car on my lunch breaks, its what you do when you don’t have money to go anywhere. I usually bring a bag of Cheezits from my house and take a complimentary soda from my office and I sit in my car and read my book. When I’m done I go back to work. Sometimes if I’m lucky and I was able to snag enough cigarettes from the house I smoke one before I go back inside. This week though, I had money. I’ve bought French Fries at the little cafeteria everyday this week. They are only a dollar and a nickel and they give me a whole lot of fries, like way more than a dollars worth. I wonder if they know that I’m broke and they pity me so they give me extra. I pay with exact change every time and they never have to break big bills for me so they must know that I’m dirt poor. Maybe I’m just being paranoid though. Anyways, The French fries are cheap and that’s a plus but the added bonus is that I have been hung-over everyday this week and greasy food is exactly what I’m craving. The best part of having money again is that I now have the means to be hung-over everyday. You wouldn’t think that would be something I would be shooting for, hangovers, but my hangovers are nice because it means that I got some sleep. Sleeping doesn’t come easy to me, but after 5 beers I usually don’t have much problem falling to sleep. I still wake up throughout the night sometimes so that’s why I take sleeping pills. That’s all a lie. I drink every night because I like beer. I could care less if I never slept again. As long as I had beer. I like going to the store to get it, I like bringing it home, putting it in the fridge and then drinking it. It tastes good, it makes my cigarettes better, it keeps me company. People seem to think drinking by yourself is taboo but I think those people are stupid. You aren’t drinking by yourself when beer is your companion. Your pretty much holding hands with it, and you probably wouldn’t be doing that with your friends. Besides if you feel weird about drinking by yourself put the TV on, or better yet call one of your friends. People love getting drunk dialed at 11pm on a work night. They want to hear you slur and stumble on your words as you tell them about the wicked funny commercial you just saw. If they tell you they’re sleeping, call them a pussy and hang up on them. Then call them back over and over again. Make it your own little game, ruining someone’s night. Then the next day when someone asks you what you did last night you have something to say instead of “drank by myself, watched TV.” Now you can say, “Oh man, it was the best night ever, I got wasted and then I called Tim all night, first it was just his cell phone, but then he shut it off, so I started calling the house, and then his wife picked up the phone and I could hear the baby crying in the background, I got him soooo good.” Much better story right? I stray, basically I like money. I enjoy the security it brings. Tasty French Fries to nurse my beautiful hangover that awarded me an excellent night of sleep and then a nice cigarette after my lunch. Who cares if I sit in my room and drink by myself, and who cares if I sit in my car and eat by myself? I’m having a better time than people who have lots of money and can go out and drink at bars with other people and who go to restaurants for their lunch. Hmmm maybe I should bring the beer with me and drink it in my car on my break that would be a double whammy. Now that’s something to think about.