A Noble Conjecture

I constantly torment myself with my burgeoning intelect...sometimes I wet my pants.

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Location: Gomorah, Sodom

I recognise my indulgence in alcohol is a cause of concern. I am equally distraught at my incorrigible insistence to partake in the celebration of my continued sluggish state brought upon by self inflicted and militaristic penchant for mindless mutilation. And you may go ahead and assume that God loves you more but He wants you to know that I am still his favourite.

Thursday, December 21, 2006

Black Juice

I did this last night. Something I have never attempted before. I don't do the harp but last night I had 5 pints of Guinness Draught, 2 small bottles of the same and a mug of the Big Cat to wash it all off. Bottled Guinness, in my opinion does not taste as good. My black juice has to come from the tap. While the waiting can sometime be annoying when one waits for the juice to settle as it is poured from the tap, it is all worth it. I was told that it takes 119.5 seconds to pour the perfect pint.

I found out later that the buzz it gave me was errrrm...most deliciously pleasing. Almost serene, I must add. My drinking partner who downed the same amount and who is also himself a Big Cat lover agreed. He said it was akin to after a third hit on the herbal smoking apparatus.

I slept very well.

I woke up this morning expecting to have that familiar ringing in the head always associated to hangovers but surprisingly, that didn't manifest. I sat on my bed and waited for it to hit me but none came. No problems in the bowels either. I was all good.

Yup, good things really does come to those who wait.

2 Comments:

Blogger bastard united said...

I like the potion from the tap as well...tastes much much much betta....sweeetttttttt....

Friday, 22 December, 2006  
Blogger Demented said...

bastard united : smoooooth and nice like a beautiful woman butt cheek.

Friday, 22 December, 2006  

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