I think I’m about three months dry now.
Last time I shotgunned five shots straight vodka about an hour before bed to relax me and as a sleep-aid. (Just one of many desperation acts to deal with insomnia.)
I woke up feeling as you’d expect, but as I was blinking I slowly noticed I could see clearly.
Oh. Crap. I left my contacts in!! Continue reading “habocath is boozehound no more (for now?)”
One of the guys from the operatic death metal band Therion brewed his own mead.
They were delicious.
“These ashlands,” Kusarikku muttered to himself after yet another coughing fit, “no wonder the Dark Elves sound almost as barbaric as my brethren.”
Kusarikku gro-Gugalanna took another swig of sujamma to cool his throat as he trekked north through a foyoda once more, this time towards the Urshilaku camp some days after Caius finally told him why the Emperor had shipped him to this blasted wasteland. But he couldn’t be too harsh after staying here for long. He had come to see a form of rough beauty in the sparse vegetation, only those tough enough to survive. But then he recalled his own rough upbringing in an orc stronghold (its name long ago intentionally forgotten) in Skyrim, his land of birth, and shook his head over the thought of how many beautiful flowers had been trampled in the name of survival of the fittest. Continue reading “drunk orc ‘zerker-paladin [morrowind fanfic]”
So, good ol’ Mr. Watts was more than a religious philosopher, he was also quite the foodie and wine snob (to the point that, according to accounts from his friends and family, the years leading up to his death they were very worried about his drinking habits):
This one especially liked his line, “Instant coffee is your punishment for not taking the time to brew it to perfection.” Continue reading “abuse of wine”