THE DRUNK WALK!

After a period of unwilling sobriety, the spirits talk again!

Seeing myself as a shaman of sorts, I’ve consulted the spirits. They say: Wrestle with a dog. After a healthy one on one with the neighburing German’s german shepherd ending in a cigarette and a promise to call the next day, I can see clearly now, the rain has gone. As every self-respecting man, I’ve bought a Xbox 360 and a flatscreen-TV to convey to the other sex that it’s the motion in the ocean, not the size of the boat that counts.

Some naughty newseditor in a Belorussian newspaper with a hilarious name got sentenced three years of prison for publishing a number of artsy pieces of another spiritual man called Mohammad. The Elegant Drunkard shivers in indifference!

Time for indulgence of various fluids, and the excretion of some. Ta!

The Cannon unleashes a vicious left hook!

I hate you.

You. Yes, you. I want to break your jaw. Bruise your ribs, might even sneak in a headbut. You are the enemy, we stand toe to toe, both saying ‘I am’, breathing heavily through flaring nostrils. This is it, this is the end of the road, this is were you fall down.

We circle eachother, testing. Concentrated eyes meet. I will break you, clenched fists ready. You bastard, you fuck. There it is, it hits me like an epiphany.

You misstepped.

Fuck you. ‘THE CANNON’S COMBO LANDS PERFECTLY, CATCHING HOLYFIELD OFF BALANCE, SENDING HIM HURTLING TO THE CANVAS!’

MAN, I love Fight Night: round 3!

Strike me down with your hate!

Hillary’s on the move, kicking Cheney in the groin.

In a speech at a $100-a-head fundraiser at Town Hall near New York’s Times Square Hillary Clinton said that “Vice President Cheney came up to see the Republicans yesterday. You can always tell when the Republicans are getting restless, because the Vice President’s motorcade pulls into the Capitol, and Darth Vader emerges,” referring to Cheney’s efforts get Republican congressional support for the Iraq war.

Dick Cheney, eater of puppies, shooter of faces, now also: Darth Vader. I see the obvious similarities, like the asthmatic wheezing, failing health and being part robot.

Quarreling men with receding hairlines

With Israel on the move against Gaza, Iran threatening Israel, alleged USA plans of an attack on Iran, and Russia stating that France and USA should back off Iran, chaos is sure to ensue.

The Middle-East is again as stable as an one-legged man trying on a shoe a size too small. Clinging to a rope. In the middle of a typhoon. Sort of.

Will this be the start of WWIII?

Frankly, doubt it. Israel will do as they always do, blow up some civilians and get on with it while the world playfully ignores it, Iran will shake a nuclear-program-stick at the world, the US will say ‘Stop it!’ and claim that Ahmedinejad eat babies and fire lasers with his eyes, and France will be ignored – simply because the French are like a annoying radio in the background that is not properly tuned.

So there.

When the shit hits the fan…

…you’ve just shit on the fan, perhaps a little less alcohol next time!

This blog, or mental playground, will mostly consist of random thoughts, oddities and, well, my drunken ramblings.

Perhaps a little word about meself. A scoundrel of sorts, cigarafficionado and a very spiritual man. The spirit of choice being scotch, single malt, AND NO ICE YOU FILTHY NO-GOOD BARTENDERTYPE YOU! Myeeesh. Always love a good fight, a good fight being me facing a sleeping or rather intoxicated adversary with the motorskills of a mildly retarded 3-year old child with prostetics.

The point of this blog, on my part, is practising my English – and hopefully entertain some shady indoor types with too much time on their hands.

English is not my first language, as you might have noticed, hence practising it, albeit not in its dreadfully boring written form, but in a more verbal manner.