10 July 2004

Don't Spurt That in My Direction

Crimson and clover, over and over.
Our house in the middle of the street, why did we ever meet?
Started my rock 'n roll fantasy.
Don't don't, don't let's start, why did we ever part?
Kick start my rock 'n rollen heart.

The innate desire to imbibe. This is what I feel. Deeply at that, perhaps to quench the burn of creation or desire, or simply the burn of passion in general. Nonetheless, what is it about getting drunk that is so appealing. Well, I'll tell you. I have no idea. None. To get krunked, drunk, shit-faced, plastered, hammered, fucked up, is a mystery. But on to the more important issues.
The cat grass I've been growing has actually sprouted. It's soooo cool, hundreds of little shoots bent toward the window just stretching out to warm themselves. Now grass isn't normally a challenge to grow, nor do I normally attempt to keep it long and thick seeing as I spend numerous hours cutting it while I'm at home. But for me, anything green tends to have an aversion. No seriously, I touch a flower and a day later and it's dead. Perhaps it's just one of those pesky side effects of being devil-spawn. Who knows. What's worse about the grass is that it does it's job, ie. it attracts the cats. Now this wouldn't be a problem except that if they eat it now, it ain't gonna grow all that much. But I seem to be the only one in this mediocre household to grasp that concept. Stupid fuzzy ass bastards. Shave your noggins and let some air in.
Well, that seems to be all on the botany channel, so I'm off to get me some more alcomohol. Note to all alcoholics that don't already know: bubbly stuff gets you drunk faster. Probably has something to do with oxygen binding to the alcohol and hemaglobin and making it less readily available to alcohol dehydrogenase. Just a thought. Keep your tv tuned to the same bat time, ssame bat channel youngins!

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