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This is a thread I think should keep floating somewhere near the top of the forum. More than the hangover one, anyway. It's happier. And it validates my theory that cheap vodka is the problem, nine out of ten. The other ten percent is putting ice in the drinks.
Blew a handful of hours last night asking for a new and different kind of whisky every round, scotch, bourbon, brands X, L, and Y from places I'll never go but whose labels are very proud of their locality. Comic adventures like Road to Fear and Loathing. Learned very moral lessons, like Applebees hates me, and that I can't take everything to be about me even when it's posed that way. Babbled praise of all kinds on all kinds, and finally got to tell a completely racist, misogynistic ass I had to be polite to for various social reasons to fuck off (and he did, too, right straight out the front door). Came home, had a bit of my roommate's Dewar's, got good and sentimental and fell fast asleep.
Four hours later, I'm up and feel marvelous, and the only bad thing in life is a mild sadness that I can't call anybody and pick right back up on last night, because I know they're each rolling around hating the insides of their skull (and possibly the contents of other people's), if they're even awake yet.
I'm beginning to suspect I sold somebody's soul in exchange for the barbelithic kidneys that keep on loving and going out of the way for me. |
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