A Friday evening, full of promise. End of week, and pregnant with possibility.
It's a story as old as time. There once was an empty stomach...
You see, you take some alcohol... You open gullet. You swallow said alcohol.
You open mouth again. You repeat. Several times. I mentioned empty stomach.
You open mouth - to speak. Neurons misfire. Words sound drastically different upon exit, than inside head.
Food? Possibly. Although, too late. Collateral Damage. Done.
More words.
Bed.
Wake up. World is dark and has a Tim Burtonesque tinge. Mouth tastes like keys. Cat appears much, MUCH bigger than I remember. She Hakuna Matata's around the place. Her paws are loud. And she looks at me like I'm dinner.
Cursing ensues. The really bad kind.
Leave home. Two very blond kids speak loudly in a language I have never heard, and jump all over my body. They seem merciless. And rotten. Even their hugs and kisses are evil.
I curse inside my head. Outside. I appear focused on too much blond. Too bright.
Tummy is on a cruise to the Bahamas. From Australia.
Meet usually soft-spoken friend - who is loud and boisterous this day, in a zen-like, although today, loud and clanky restaurant. Eat some rocks and drink loud, Niagara Falls water.
Home. Friend. Chitchat. Friend creaks loudly on cushions made of tin foil and is wearing rocks for shoes.
Bed.
Curse.
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