2011 March 17th
"I'm sooo fucking fat!" Bert wails grabbing his belly and shaking it.
Jepha smiles, "you look healthy"
"Don't bull shit me" Bert whines before groaning and wailing over dramatically. "IM FAAAAAT!"
Bert didn't really care.
He knew why he'd been putting on the pounds lately.
He's twenty nine years of age and he'd lost his high metabolism.
Fucking ageing.
It could suck his dick.
And the fucking beer wasn't helping. Which twisted bitch put calories in Beer!? Now that really was fucked up.
Another factor that Bert could blame for his weight gain since the stage accident was the pain pills he had to take every few hours.
He'd Only been taking them just under a week and most of the time he'd forget and Quinn would remind him but now he'd be reminded by himself, god dam cravings.
It wasn't bad though. Just lite cravings nothing compared to other shit he'd put in his fucking body.
But it was still there.
He was noticing the slow dependence from and he was torn between letting his bandmates know and telling the doctor that he's just gonna suck the pain up because he's got a vibrant drug record and he can't be pushing his luck or just let himself have fun until his fucking broken links are healed and he needs to quit.
And of course, he was going to go with the second option.
It's not like he should worried about this shit now.
It hadn't even been a week.
"Can you get me a beer?" Bert asks Jepha as polity as possible with his most charming smirk.
Jeph closes the cupboard and turns to face him giving him a look. "You sure you should be drinking so much on your medication?"
Bert rolled his eyes. "Stop worrying" he laughs. "It's chill I asked about that already" which was true, And the doctors had Told him not to exceed or go over the recommended units whatever that was. He was pretty certain he'd gone way over the recommended units yesterday anyway and possibly today if he could get drunk quietly like he wanted.
But he was being babied by his entire band because he'd fallen off stage and fucked up his hand and elbow and nowadays people seemed to count how Many and how much you drank. Or maybe that was just with him...
He wasn't sure and honestly didn't want to know.
"I SUCK DICK ON A WEDNESDAY!" Bert screams/sings in his best worst voice he could master.
Jepha grimaces and puts his hands over his ears.
"Bert!" Dan groans from the back of the bus.
"Here's your fucking beer, shut up" Jepha laughs and slams the cold fresh can on the table.
Bert sniggers and pulls a manic face before licking his lips, ripping open the can and gulping it down.
He slams it back down in the table making a satisfied gasp and snaps his head to catch Jepha looking at him.
"Jesus"
"What?" Bert asks innocently.
Jepha shakes his head, "I dunno man" he says before taking his stupid green tea and walking back down the bus.
Leaving Bert by himself.
He didn't mind.
He liked his own company.
His own company didn't tell him not to drink or give him looks for it.
The only time he ever told himself to stop was when it was too late and that was funny to him.
Ha.
He's paralytic on the floor and he's still thinking about that bottle of vodka he's just smashed because he fell over while he bandmates yell at him.
Yeah maybe that's when he tells himself to stop?
Hahaha.
He could get away with that sort of behaviour when he was younger but nowadays that sort of drunken behaviour seemed to make everyone around him change a little bit.
Bert rolled his eyes at the thought of his bandmates trying to give him a mini intervention and laughed before grabbing his phone and calling Alison.
