life (tequila rose) is a bitch
in this sequel to the alcohol saga, i take a moment to discuss the evil evil thing that is alcohol with harmless sounding names.
take, for instance, citron. brings to mind images of clean pg drinking, lemons and oranges and the like. then after not a few hits it punishes you by playing bongos in your brain over and over and over and over and doesn't let up until you alternately promise to never ever ever drink again or promise to drink lots more of it at the soonest possible time. don't even get started on kurant and vanilia.
mudshakes. mudslides. bailey's. kahlua. friendly names. nice names. chick drink names. you take a sip and like the clean taste with the hint of alcohol and decide, yeah, you can take a few more. and that few more leads to a bottle down, and then a few more bottles down leads to you to chocolate flavored projectile. sweet.
and the kicker of all kickers, the most deceptive of them all, the godmother of all alcoholic lying bitches:
tequila rose.
even the packaging is a big fat lying SOB. i mean, with cuervo you know what you're getting into. you drink it, you know you don't walk, talk, see, or think straight for the rest of the time you're awake. but the rose's bottle even has a freaking rose on the label.
but of of course, when you're out late at night and you want to hang out more than you want to get drunk and think drinking harmless drinks will carry the day for you, a dark bottle with a pink rose plastered on it beckons. a double leads to eight more and when all is said and done, the world spins round and round and round the moment you attempt to get up.
life's a bitch. and then you wake up. and then you want to die.
but darling, the road to dying,
fun.
take, for instance, citron. brings to mind images of clean pg drinking, lemons and oranges and the like. then after not a few hits it punishes you by playing bongos in your brain over and over and over and over and doesn't let up until you alternately promise to never ever ever drink again or promise to drink lots more of it at the soonest possible time. don't even get started on kurant and vanilia.
mudshakes. mudslides. bailey's. kahlua. friendly names. nice names. chick drink names. you take a sip and like the clean taste with the hint of alcohol and decide, yeah, you can take a few more. and that few more leads to a bottle down, and then a few more bottles down leads to you to chocolate flavored projectile. sweet.
and the kicker of all kickers, the most deceptive of them all, the godmother of all alcoholic lying bitches:
tequila rose.
even the packaging is a big fat lying SOB. i mean, with cuervo you know what you're getting into. you drink it, you know you don't walk, talk, see, or think straight for the rest of the time you're awake. but the rose's bottle even has a freaking rose on the label.
but of of course, when you're out late at night and you want to hang out more than you want to get drunk and think drinking harmless drinks will carry the day for you, a dark bottle with a pink rose plastered on it beckons. a double leads to eight more and when all is said and done, the world spins round and round and round the moment you attempt to get up.
life's a bitch. and then you wake up. and then you want to die.
but darling, the road to dying,
fun.
posted by peach at 12:26 AM
1 Comments:
yakult lang yan, my dear. and aspirin BEFORE you go to bed. but then you probably already know this, seasoned drinker that you are. ^.~
though of course, sometimes, there's really nothing in the world like a good, neat puke.
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