Solitary tippling= the best kinda tippling in this author's ridiculous opinion.
Conversation becomes imaginary and beautifully abstract as opposed to brutally concrete and wearying, prone to misinterpretation and guileless gibbering.
Aw honey, stupefaction is our objective Jonathan told his imaginary lover. He wished he had some weed.
Damn, this port is tasty. Aw honey yeh. Yeh baby.
If you've just joined us, welcome, welcome to the mindless inane ramblings of a morose surrealist (sans the surrealist leanings).
Speak poet.
Speak butcher.
Speak, wind.
It did: it made a whirring sound like a frenzied CPU. Guffaw.
Guff-- aw... aw honey ah hell yeh! kick him honey!
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