|
15 September 2004 - 10:56 Oh my. I feel fuzzy. Kind of hungover, but more tired... I'm in the "inbetween", whatever that means. I can hear myself forming relatively coherent sentences and the such, only it seems as though they come out of my mouth in slow motion, or about 30 seconds after I have actually said them. The processor is on slow-mo today. Why? Well, it's start of the Pool (as in table, balls and cue) season again, and the mighty O'Hara's machine is once again in motion. Taking on the world, potting some balls, drinking some beer, smoking tabs, choosing pool. Problem is that the mighty jug o' Keiths beer seems to keep refilling itself like some beautiful miracle, an eternal flame if you will. To be quaffed at will and without mercy. Bumfluff Dave and I came to the realization last night that a night of beer is one thing, but to avoid unwanted blackouts, avoid Jack Daniels. I think he may be onto something with that. Also I have a new favourite poutine place. Zestos. Next door to O'Haras. For those poor and accursed kind who are unaware of the delights of poutine I suggest you go here and discover the delight that is Qu�bec's ...um... national dish. And the perfect after-beer ...um... snack. This entry is hugely sketchy. I feel fuzzy.
   My life is rated NC-17. What is your life rated? |
