Thursday, 5 November 2020

Your Powers are Weak, Old Man.

 I'm getting old. It's becoming clear that I need glasses to see things that are really close – probably death staring me in the face.

I had a long a tiring week last week, and on Friday at about 8:30 or so after finishing the meagre stock of beer that I had in the fridge, I just gave up with the day and went to bed. Luxurious though it was, it made a depressing contrast with how I used to be able to behave.

I remember one time with my best friend when we were both in peak (drinking) condition. Pubs closed at 11:00pm, as god intended, and we went back to his house and drank all the beer in the fridge. We were still thirsty so we went to the cellar and either drank or spilled all the champagne that was waiting for a special occasion. By the end of the night we had been reduced to drinking unwanted-gift-gin with summer-fruits-cordial. I felt like I might die, but I managed to get up and go to a wedding the next day.

Richard "lightweight" B


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