You know, like not a pipsqueak “pip” but a more proper “phump”.
A few weeks ago I indulged in an indulgence I do not normally indulge in. I bought me a bottle of Hendricks gin. And by god man, I swear, one of the finest things I have ever had. Super.
I really should expand the liquor cabinet to a life beyond gin though. Perhaps get some exotic stuff like ouzo and that bottle with two halves where you pour the cream separately and the brandy (?) separately and it all mixes in the glass and looks kinda yummy.
Of course womaniya thinks that gin is for weak, pasty women and that I should swig some scotch and talk about oil and money and banks and stuff like that. Ok well not the last part but she does think that gin is a bit too effeminate. So I said, I dont care what you think, just leave me alone ok?
I don’t like women who deliberately try not to make any sense. Like even their craziness is very put on. It is such a terrible waste of space.
Damn. A waste of space.
I wonder if somewhere there is just tons and tons of space. Like the graveyard of space. Or even the birthplace of space. Where space gets made. Can you make space? Isnt it odd that we call what is beyond the skies as “space”. Outer space. I don’t think the human mind could come up with anything simpler really. Space. Just miles and miles of space.
In other news, I took a cab from the airport to home the other day. The fare came up to 328 bucks. The cab driver handed me the two bucks. This city hits you in ways you cannot even imagine. Right in the face. When you aint looking. So all you are left with is a confused expression on your face, your hand wavering around your cheek and you going “where the fuck did that come from”
Oh thums up. Why did they take you away? Why are you missing a “b”? And why did it take me so long to figure out that thumsup was actually thumbs up and the symbol was a thumb pointing upwards?
Oooooh and in the best news of the frikkin century, I kicked Brutus into life!!! Yup. Just a couple of kicks and there she was, purring away and growling away and being all Brutus-like. I think she missed me. But then again it could just be part of a giant game. Will suddenly conk on me while I am right in the middle of nowhere. And then laugh while I lug her to the mechanic and then magically start again just when the mechanic gives her a little kick.
Brutus. Et tu also.
I am reading this book written by a chap who traveled the north east and then wrote about it. The grammar is a bit iffy and the tone can get a bit toooooo informal but I quite like it.
Toss. TOSSS. TOSSSSSSSSSSS.
I can’t believe that this word was not meant to be a cuss word. It just sounds so much like one. Toss.
What a toss!