Sipping Sewage
2005-08-30 2:08 a.m.
�Right now I am in PULA, on the coast of Croatia eating meditarrean food, mostly fried fish, olives, mushrooms, figs and such..imbedded in pretty tasy vino blanco (white wine) and a great view onto the adriatic sea.�That�s by an artist friend of mine who�s about to open up her installation at a gallery in Croatia. I�m rarely a jealous person, but how can one not be left wanting by such a description?
Since my bank account has a snide smirk planted firmly on it�s balance, I had to grab something sub par from the local grocery store. The registers refuse to draw a liquor sale after 1:25 and it was about 1:18 when I walked through the sliding doors. I needed to make a decision quick on something less than $20. All their even half-decent shit was locked in the cabinet. I�d no time to hunt down the key-master.
To the shelves I go� Fuck Rum - the forefather to most hangovers. I wanted Jack. No dice. Ok, cheap scotch. The highest low-priced scotch I could find� Cutty Sark. Do not drink this horrible sewage. It�s a bad joke by the Scotch industry that I�m not sure I�ll ever get.
The friend in my ear who accompanied me in my hurried walk to the store joked that I finally made it to wino status, but such is not the case. I haven�t had a sip of poison since Thursday. And besides, this drink is celebratory.
I can�t expound upon what I�m celebrating as it�s premature. No less, standing good in are things.
Too much time in my apartment and thus my head has produced a bit of a nutso weekend, but to the outside viewer, I would have merely looked bored.