Four Courvoisier, two Campari, two Pitons and the premature departure from the land of slumber (at the hands of my loud talking fucking neighbours)later, oh my god - my fucking head hurts.
What the fuck was I thinking while I was downing those fucking drinks? The better question is what the fuck was I thinking after I downed those drinks? It's not a blur it just does not make sense. The lines of logic and illogic meld into one after the chemical make up of your cerebral cortex has been manipulated.
Ambrosia, indeed, the Devil's nectar, how it discombobulates and numbs the mind and senses. Fuck this shit - it feels like a bad marriage with some good patches that keep you hesitating whether to stay or leave. We should have a trial separation to see if this is what we really want; at least separate for this weekend.
Who am I kidding, I love this bitch - the good far out weighs the bad; I think. Man I had a blast last night, it was a free flowing night - I planned to go out and go with the flow and that is exactly what I did. My nephew has still not recovered - his ass is home sleeping tight (lucky bugger); but it was good - man we could talk shit when we drink. It was a good night, but not a night I will be having again for this weekend.
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