It’s been grand reliving all of my childhood injuries as an adult. Skinned knees and hands, fat lips, bloody noses…..but this time with alcohol!! I’m not looking forward to the severed finger, broken bones and head trauma though.
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DUDE- maybe you should cut back on the drinky dink?
Wha’ happen?!???
Wine tasting fiasco, cold medicine, no food, work stress, and no self control. The last thing that I remember is bonking heads (or in my case an eye socket) with one of my friends as we walked down the street (apparently either he or I was pushed by another friend). Then it’s blank for about two hours but apparently I had fun and apparently the four cops were nice about me puking my guts out on Blair Street (you’ve go to love NZ cops). Thank goodness for GFoH! I wish there was a bar fight or something else cool involved. Perhaps the story will change and grow with time. Reminiscing about being drunk is generally much much better than the act.
And as much as I want to portray myself as a Malcolm Lowry anti-hero and as much as I revel in my drunkenness on this here blogoroni it’s mostly just mildly-buzzed crap inspired by a glass or two of wine a week allowing the befuddlement of my brain to spew forth. It’s really the unfortunate bimonthly binge drinking (such as this incident) that has to stop. Bleech.
Yesterday it was really the most beautiful mascara-esque shiner (before the below the eye bruising set in). All the girls were jealous and I could have totally passed for a Cure-concert goer.
No I suspectr you look like an asymmetric panda bear.
Come back, come back to life, Gregor!
so, when you get the spins in NZ, do yo spin the other way???
Yow. He wears the mark of the emu.
Good to see you guys are still psychotic liberal wackos. Drink up!
Oh, and a follow up, also related to the practical implications of the Coriolis Effect.
Does PupH, ahem, “play the cello” with his other leg instead??
I generally forgo the spins and head straight to the blackouts but if I ever get the chance to experience the spins down here I’ll be sure to check!
PupH is ambidextrous – an equal opportunity sort of guy. His hardest adjustment so far mastering the art of peeing on slopes. He’s forever trying to pee up hills!
Those mornings when you wake up with new bruises and your friends from the night before refuse to look you in the eye are the best. Or something.
My strategy is always to apologize the next time that I see them and hope that they ask “what for?”
i havent been drunk in so long it remains inconsolably sad…
Man just living in India is like being drunk 24-7!
not my part of town. it’s like righteous central.
goddamn conservative people suck. too bad i have to live with my parents…
From my perspective everyday life in India is just so stimulating and bewildering that it’s very much like being drunk (or stoned).
The first morning that GFoH3 and I were in Madras we just watched traffic for a couple of hours….and we were never bored.
That is probably because you WERE stoned.
High on life!!!!!1
@ GS: i felt the same way in nyc(well technically manhattan). it was the best experience evar
btw i am now hairless. read about it here
btw, and dont tell my dad i said this, i think i prefer madras to hyderabad(even accounting for the godawful weather and crappy water situation). it’s a growing up thing, i guess. i did my HS in madras and have many fond memories.
Last time I got that drunk with Gregor was a long, long time ago … it didn’t end so badly, although I remember some cute girls … who stole our food.
“Work is the curse of the drinking classes …” – Wilde
(no, not Kim Wilde)
“Keats and Yeats are on your side but you lose because Wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiilde is on miiiiiiiiiiiiine” – The Smiths
That was a great drunk – the one and only time that I had the spins. The sorority girls acting all nice and sweet all the while just trying to steal our very gross Mexican food. I remember trying to tell them “I know what you’re doing! I may be drunk but I’m not stupid.” But I’m sure all that came out was something along the lines of “gaaahgkljakreee!!1 Stoooopleuioi!”
The best part was after I threw up in the parking lot walking back to your house but before we went inside sitting on the curb late night/early morning watching the characters amble or pedal by the heat of the day gone but the memories of which radiating from the asphalt and the tip of the hat or the wave from those we knew really there’s something about excess that kindles a fondness for simplicity and kindness and fades the blush of humiliation felt and leaning further and further back the faint ringing of bicycle bells and last memories of stars circling overhead spinning uncomfortably.
yes starting you like and enjoyment wine and you finished heavy quantity but when you drink more and more one time is came your lever didn’t except alcohol and you always hangover all the time.