On poker, Finnish liquor and alcohol angst
The last HaringKop of 2005 and I can't remember shit.
There was some Listerine-tasting Finnish spirit which I downed without regard for my own well-being, resulting in me having to pull out after about four hands. Pathetic really. Still 2005 over-all Champion. But I must apologise for my poor performance on the last game of the season.
I was drunk, and very much so. I have no recollection of who won, when and how. The Kaptain dropped me off a Guildford station, and somehow I managed to get to London without vomiting. Upon arriving in Waterloo, my mini-bender had subsided and I felt completely sober. God knows what that drink was made of but I'd rather not drink it again. Now I am suffering from alcohol-angst, and I am a bit annoyed with myself for not trying to win the Kop one more time this year. My apologies also to the other founding fathers for such a poor show. My weekends have become out of control again, but in a different manner to that of times gone by. No class A's this time, only wanton debauchery, Finnish alcohol, Valium and Clonazepam. A rather strange mix perhaps. But then again, it led to a rather strange experience. One I'd rather not repeat. Sitting at work feeling shit, thinking about finding a place to live and move on with my life. A nice warm bed wouldn't go a miss right now, but instead I am stuck with a creaking chair, an ageing Mac, tons of work and absolutely no brain activity at all.
Perhaps it was fitting that I, being the most cocky and self-assured of all the founding fathers, went out in the last game of the season in such a disastrous and for me unusual fashion.
Is it 2040 yet? I need to go on pension.
There was some Listerine-tasting Finnish spirit which I downed without regard for my own well-being, resulting in me having to pull out after about four hands. Pathetic really. Still 2005 over-all Champion. But I must apologise for my poor performance on the last game of the season.
I was drunk, and very much so. I have no recollection of who won, when and how. The Kaptain dropped me off a Guildford station, and somehow I managed to get to London without vomiting. Upon arriving in Waterloo, my mini-bender had subsided and I felt completely sober. God knows what that drink was made of but I'd rather not drink it again. Now I am suffering from alcohol-angst, and I am a bit annoyed with myself for not trying to win the Kop one more time this year. My apologies also to the other founding fathers for such a poor show. My weekends have become out of control again, but in a different manner to that of times gone by. No class A's this time, only wanton debauchery, Finnish alcohol, Valium and Clonazepam. A rather strange mix perhaps. But then again, it led to a rather strange experience. One I'd rather not repeat. Sitting at work feeling shit, thinking about finding a place to live and move on with my life. A nice warm bed wouldn't go a miss right now, but instead I am stuck with a creaking chair, an ageing Mac, tons of work and absolutely no brain activity at all.
Perhaps it was fitting that I, being the most cocky and self-assured of all the founding fathers, went out in the last game of the season in such a disastrous and for me unusual fashion.
Is it 2040 yet? I need to go on pension.
posted by tseuq at 12/05/2005 01:56:00 pm
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