School starts in 14 days, to the day. Another dreary journey up and down. Another 3 hours to be wasted each day only thru travelling time. Another few months of ranting and raving, quarrelling with librarians, sighting young nubile wide-eyed innocent Year 1 girls who have no fuckin clue what's gonna hit them, having a shot of ice cool vodka in the hot hot sun, of lecture notes and un-attended lectures.
Beer is not such a bad liquid after all. It makes you piss a lot. Tiger, Carlsberg are a bit rough on the edges. Heineken for smoothness but you get your high like next year. Hoegarden puts you in the mood to smooch, and Kilkenny's is so so sweet you might as well be mixing up another ribena while you're at it.
Drink liquor instead. You get your high quick. No incessant burping or pissing. A good shot of anything is guaranteed to burn your throat and thus waking up your idea or waking you up to where you're ACTUALLY at as compared to where you THOUGHT you're at. At the very most, you end up purging and when you're taking a dump it smells of your mixer. Funny bit is, the morning after drinking, I always smell cranberry. Regardless, what I use as a mixer.
The weather is the most disgusting thing of this country. How the hell does it blaze like we're on the wrong side of Mars and yet pour the next instant. God is definitely fiddling with the knobs a bit too much this year. The rest of the country is quite alright thank you. And no, I'm not going to comment on the gahmen here. But if you did miss the election coverage, feel free to click HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE and HERE .
I am very proud of my this weekend. It started out horrendously, but it kinda cured itself. Friday with Rita, Saturday with my bolster and Sunday with old boys. I've missed the clique, much. Alas, I can't go back to the days were those. It's just not practical. Different aims, different priorities, different ways of handling people. I prefer my way I guess, to just stand by the periphery but still look out for the ones I like more.
Currently, I'm seething with jealousy. I just saw a newspaper report on one of my old hostel mates. He lived like 2 rooms down and was in the Red Cross. If you've seen my green Cambodia "Danger Mines" t-shirt, he's the one who got me that when he went over on a mission to help clear land mines. So, yeah, business student he is and what do I read? Fucker owns his own risk management consultancy and is also a partner in a restaurant. This over and above his bloody Red Cross commitments where the school gladly grants him leave to just fly off whenever he wants to without fucking him up about attendance.
Haiz. I'm really starting to think I've missed my boat. Not even Jack Sparrow's monstrous boat but a small little fishing sampan even would have kept me happy.
Tides really can turn when you sign on the wrong document.
Adieu!
Beer is not such a bad liquid after all. It makes you piss a lot. Tiger, Carlsberg are a bit rough on the edges. Heineken for smoothness but you get your high like next year. Hoegarden puts you in the mood to smooch, and Kilkenny's is so so sweet you might as well be mixing up another ribena while you're at it.
Drink liquor instead. You get your high quick. No incessant burping or pissing. A good shot of anything is guaranteed to burn your throat and thus waking up your idea or waking you up to where you're ACTUALLY at as compared to where you THOUGHT you're at. At the very most, you end up purging and when you're taking a dump it smells of your mixer. Funny bit is, the morning after drinking, I always smell cranberry. Regardless, what I use as a mixer.
The weather is the most disgusting thing of this country. How the hell does it blaze like we're on the wrong side of Mars and yet pour the next instant. God is definitely fiddling with the knobs a bit too much this year. The rest of the country is quite alright thank you. And no, I'm not going to comment on the gahmen here. But if you did miss the election coverage, feel free to click HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE and HERE .
I am very proud of my this weekend. It started out horrendously, but it kinda cured itself. Friday with Rita, Saturday with my bolster and Sunday with old boys. I've missed the clique, much. Alas, I can't go back to the days were those. It's just not practical. Different aims, different priorities, different ways of handling people. I prefer my way I guess, to just stand by the periphery but still look out for the ones I like more.
Currently, I'm seething with jealousy. I just saw a newspaper report on one of my old hostel mates. He lived like 2 rooms down and was in the Red Cross. If you've seen my green Cambodia "Danger Mines" t-shirt, he's the one who got me that when he went over on a mission to help clear land mines. So, yeah, business student he is and what do I read? Fucker owns his own risk management consultancy and is also a partner in a restaurant. This over and above his bloody Red Cross commitments where the school gladly grants him leave to just fly off whenever he wants to without fucking him up about attendance.
Haiz. I'm really starting to think I've missed my boat. Not even Jack Sparrow's monstrous boat but a small little fishing sampan even would have kept me happy.
Tides really can turn when you sign on the wrong document.
Adieu!
1 comment:
bro, hav u tried the Munich Dark at Paulaner's? it comes in 3 sizes; 1L, 0.5L n 0.3L suggest u drink one 1L mug first then if u can, take another 1L n tell me abt it . . suggest going on a sunday or on a monday where they have one for one offer.
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