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!
