It seemed perfectly logical, standing in my bedroom with my pyjamas on backwards saying out loud "Yes! Brilliant! That is a very good idea" then I said it again sotto voce in case I woke Grizelda in the next room.
This morning I floated down the hallway in a dream of rubber legs, waving my hands with submerged inertia and a wide calm smile thinking I feel special, I am special, this is grand. It wasn't until I reached the tea and toast stage that I realised I was off my fucking head.
Last night a man called Sputnik had plied The Spatula and I with so much alcohol that I thought I had invented an indoor hot rain cupboard and was going to call it a shower. After enjoying a blast in the indoor hot rain cupboard and dressing backwards in my favourite pyjamas I decided that I was too drunk to sleep and a solution must be found. My solution was codeine, an unremembered amount of codeine.
Sitting in the library listening to the excellent crunch of toast inside my head the pieces fell together. My one drink turned into many drinks, then sambuca shots, then different shots, then rum, much pirate rum and a joint or two miraculously produced from somewhere inside The Spatula's handbag. Sputnik was convincing with his arguments for drinking and he wasn't shy about putting his wallet where his mouth was and so in this way found myself lead along the path from Sensibletown to Fuckedupville which is where I made my own personal Jimi decision and swallowed an ill advised amount of tablets. Unlike Jimi I did not drown in my own vomit but woke happy as a chicken and floated around until well past midday. I think I might take up guitar, I could be a genius.
This morning I floated down the hallway in a dream of rubber legs, waving my hands with submerged inertia and a wide calm smile thinking I feel special, I am special, this is grand. It wasn't until I reached the tea and toast stage that I realised I was off my fucking head.
Last night a man called Sputnik had plied The Spatula and I with so much alcohol that I thought I had invented an indoor hot rain cupboard and was going to call it a shower. After enjoying a blast in the indoor hot rain cupboard and dressing backwards in my favourite pyjamas I decided that I was too drunk to sleep and a solution must be found. My solution was codeine, an unremembered amount of codeine.
Sitting in the library listening to the excellent crunch of toast inside my head the pieces fell together. My one drink turned into many drinks, then sambuca shots, then different shots, then rum, much pirate rum and a joint or two miraculously produced from somewhere inside The Spatula's handbag. Sputnik was convincing with his arguments for drinking and he wasn't shy about putting his wallet where his mouth was and so in this way found myself lead along the path from Sensibletown to Fuckedupville which is where I made my own personal Jimi decision and swallowed an ill advised amount of tablets. Unlike Jimi I did not drown in my own vomit but woke happy as a chicken and floated around until well past midday. I think I might take up guitar, I could be a genius.
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