Oh what fun it is to be young enough to go out and get smashed, then spend all day hungover, with rumbly guts and severe lassitude! Which does not describe me, but perfectly encapsulates my coworker today. Who was already fairly hammered last night when a friend dragged him out of the house for drinkies.
After two (more) rum and cokes, they went to another bar further up the street from the first. Two drinkies later, back to the first. Then two more drinkies, and back to the second place, because maybe the young ladies there were no longer dancing with the same guys. Well, that wasn't the case, so they went back to the first (after two more drinkies), where a third friend soon arrived, all depressed and gloomy because he and his significant other had recently broken up. Let's do shots!
They stayed at the last bar till closing time.
He woke up this morning belatedly realizing that the time had changed and he would be late unless he got out of the house immediately, without bathing, and foregoing breakfast.
He whined that he was hungry for over two hours, then discovered a bag of peanut-butter bites.
"Wait, is this dogfood?!?"
No dude, it's junkfood. Oh, okay. A few minutes later he lit his first cigar of the day. Then spent an educational amount of time in the bathroom, and warned me not to go in after he came out.
Perhaps I should mention that the dear boy has gastritis, and his doctors have told him to lay off the junkfood. And the greasy crap. And stomach-stressing stuff like cookies, bread, roasted meats, fries, sodas, coffee, crispy snax, fatty bits, burritos, wings, burgers, dogs, spicy food.....
And hot sauce, which makes eating in Marin bearable.
And definitely, boyo, NO! MORE! LIQUOR!
He was sorely afflicted all day.
Nothing stayed in.
I, on the other hand, had a splendid day. Smoked several pipes plus the odd cheroot, buffed a number of pieces of briar as well as the carbon rubber stems belonging to them, dumped hot sauce all over my cheap sandwich, twitted cigar smokers gibbering in the lounge and gloated about the rain.
I exemplify good clean living. Very little booze, ever, and an abstemious approach to cigars. It's darn-well saintly of me.
And I rather like rainy weather.
It is peaceful when it rains.
Except for Scotsmen.
MILDEW ON THE SADDLE
[SOURCE: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=feRBILhdXLQ. ]
The Scots are a depressing lot, daft and angst-ridden.
Some of them are queer as blazes.
Haggis and sh*t.
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