booze hoover

Tonight, after a really nice night with Jase, with the better half of my life on the line, after running out of alcohol, I really, honestly considered how the meths in the garage would taste mixed with Dr Pepper.

I am not that person.

I am way better than this.

Jesus wept. You're not meant to have that kind of feeling when you don't live under a fucking bridge, I'm sure.

I'm not sure if I think more of myself for not making an interesting new cocktail, or less for seriously considering it.

Change the NIN to Jesus Jones.

Read a few comics.

I'm way better than this.

(no subject)

Christ's unholy PENIS.

Virgin Marys + a fresh capsule in the nicotine techno-cock are a REALLY fucking poor substitute for a slug and a tab.

Oh, dear fucking lord, skin me alive.

There's got to be a better life than this.

(no subject)

cleaning teeth helps.

investigated alcohol content of mouth-wash.

not sufficiently high to be worth it.

going to bed.

pangs can go fuck themselves.

in the morning, I will be a happy, productive member of society.

just like you.

no hangover

I've been awake since 8am.

It's morning, and I'm awake.

I am going to hide under my duvet until one of these two scenarios ceases to be extant.

Multiple Choice Test

One for the sharp-of-brain, courtesy of miss_squiddy

stop drinking this muck!

When only a glistening, ice cool pint of turd and topsoil will do:



Guinness. It tastes like a dog shat in your face.