The elderly.

Check out the book "Helter, Skelter" by Vincent Bugliosi...or rent the movie if you're not into books. The movie is not great, though....

A party where someone skewers her on a punt pole and sands off her feet.

Regarding the 'point', consider this: If I were such a drunken fuck-up as the narrator of this story, I probably wouldn't read poetry or have the self-awareness to recognize the narrator's situation as being like to my own (or to care if I did.) Ditto for you as writer. So this poem could mean nothing to an actual drunk living a boring self-destructive life; he would most likely not change his behavior in the slightest, even if he did happen to read it. Nor could it mean anything to me as a non-self-destructive non-boring reader, except to make me feel a little good and self-righteous about not being a boring drunk, which I don't really care for in a poem - and which is a false self-righteousness, anyway, since it's not a real drunk I'm feeling better than but a creation of your non-drunk imagination. A simple way to fix this is to position your actual self in the poem watching the drunk. Then you don't have to deal with the problem of the drunk's self-awareness and we can learn all kinds of interesting things about you which aren't fictional - that you're the kind of person who would write about a boring drunk, to say the least. And it would necessarily be true and believable.

what do yu mean?? i hope I havne't offended you because i'm truely sorry if so :(

Perhaps you could tell me what sort of 'constant partying' you've been doing that doesn't involve a hangover. Do people's parents make you go home at 10:30? Or are you under the pathetic delusion that you can have a good time without drugs?

you are a bad man.

In Poem School where I currently attend we are frequently required to perform hideous 'Poetry Drills' involving rapid de-ambiguification of famous and infamous poems while jumping quickly in place on our desks. The professors and other staff stand around us, mocking our efforts and not-infrequently pulling our uniform sweatpants down to our ankles (Poetry Drills often taking place on Gym Day for exactly that reason.) That said, the one interpretation I missed is that TPBOD is your name, which makes me sorry for having made so much fun of your poem. I wouldn't have been so harsh if I'd known it was you.

I have no idea what a hangover feels like, much less radiation, so I'm gonna say both but niether in the way you are thinking

Beautiful. Just beautiful. The point is meaninglessness. And it took you a whole of what? 10 seconds? 15? I bow before you, oh mighty understander of all things written.

thanks :) thats all i want to do..reach people with my life...look forward to reading some of yours