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Monday 9:50 p.m.
Last night I drank two bottles of this collapso you can buy at half price from Scotmid, called Murdo Di Vino. £3:99. I think the name must mean Murder Yourself with This Collapso. However, apart from wakening up at half three in the morning, I felt really okay today. Well, hardly a hundred percent, but I'm used to feeling crap on a Monday when back at the jobbie. On Friday I drank two bottles of weissbier and a bottle of red, and felt crap the next day. The first person I had sex with was telling me about injecting whisky ... no, we don't want to go there! But why can't they put alcohol in a pill?
I got off the couch at twenty to six and went up to the hut. This is wonderful. This longer day stuff. Last month you couldn't have done that. Then I meditated when I got back here. And then I meditated again. On the way back from the hut, I felt so impressed by the Murder Yourself with This Collapso that I bought another bottle, but only one.
You can look down your long nose, you blissless moron, and think how superior you are that you don't have to do things like buy bottles of plonko collapso to help you battle with the Nicotine Dragon, but you don't get ra bliss either, do you?
The meditations in the hut and back here before I started quaffing the plonko were superbo. I feel more and more empathy with the boy who drank himself to death and bonked everything on nights like this. These are two different things, connected by your ability to concentrate. If you cannot concentrate, and you won't be able to when you're drinking or really hung over, you cannot do ra bliss. But there seems to be a dichotomy with the subtle and the gross. How wonderful!
Of course, pouring poisons into yourself has no part in Higher Yoga Tantra ... but I will not buy fags, and I have no money for bob hope. Tomorrow I'll be sober and straight.
There's something funny going on which I cannot quite put my finger on. Changes. I'm don't seem to be feeling the hangover effects from drinking so much these days, or as one would normally feel. There seems to be a difference from what there was. Funged if I know what it is!
Does anyone know what kind of flower that is? Christmas present!
8 comments:
It is an Amaryllis.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amaryllis
Popular plant to give folks as a gift as it is pretty sturdy.
Marie! Just testing! Ten out of ten! Hotboy
Hotters, that's a great name for a Scottish wine, are you sure it's not just a made up drink from one of your books?
It's not clear whether that was the first person you had sex with on Friday night, or ever. But if it's any help I used to drink whisky and water from a baby's bottle in front of the TV at Buccleuch Towers. I think it gives you cancer though, so you're safer sticking with needles.
Albert? I think thinking of you drinking whisky out of a baby's bottle was a bit too much for me this evening since I am straight and sober. I don't think I was entirely when I wrote this post. A little on the way anyway. Still, no nicotine for four days. Hotboy
Those long nose morons would be enough to drive anyone to drink.
Albert? Five days without nicotine; no drinkies last night: job done! Hotboy
One day at a time sweet Jesus.
Albert? I'm just waiting till I get sorted out enough to fall off the wagon again! Hotboy
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