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My Morning Coffee Habit

There’re lots of cool things about coffee,
like the smell of ground beans, and the taste.
But I don’t like the way it runs through me,
’cause it just seems to be such a waste.

It’s a great thing to have in the morning,
it wakes me right up real quick smart.
But it’s not long before I am peeing,
and I know I can’t stop once I start.

I’ve tried to use water to flush it
through my system; I drink till I’m clean.
But I never quite learn from my habit
- I’m back on when I smell a roast bean.

Ok, I figured it had been so long since I’d written an update, that I’d better come up with something to write. Here’s part one of a series that’s a bit uncomfortably long.

The time I was so drunk I put a dead mouse in my mouth.

I think this rates as the worst thing I’ve ever done while I was drunk. My mate and I went to a party for a friend of mine that we hadn’t seen in a while. There were a bunch of other people there that used to be in our circle of friends, and as the night went on we ended up playing a drinking game. The game involved trying to bounce a coin off the table and into a mug sitting in the middle of the table. If you got the coin into the mug, the person on your left had to drink.

There were a couple of problems here. I’m completely unco, and getting the coin into the mug was a rare achievement. The person on my right was my best mate, who is exceptionally good at this sort of thing. We weren’t taking little sips, either - you were supposed to skull your drink, but I knew that if I did that I would end up unconcious. In retrospect, that would have been a much better outcome.

As the game went on (there was no end to this game, it was played simply for its entertainment value) I became more and more drunk. Things start to get a bit blurry here. Someone found a dead mouse and came running into the room with it to show everyone. In a feat of logic which I will never understand, I decided to show off by dangling the dead mouse in my mouth.

The heavily repressed sober portion of my mind that remained screamed inside my head telling me that this was not a good thing to do, and gave me one of those adrenalin shots that always seems to sober you up when something bad happens. The effect was that I suddenly woke up, sitting there with a dead mouse pressed against my tongue, recoiled in horror and threw the mouse across the room in disgust. I’m still not sure whether or not it hit anyone, because I was already running to the toilet with vomit surging up my throat.

I didn’t quite make it, and left patches of vomit up the hallway before finally leaning against a wall and vomitting into the urinal. (This party was held at a yacht club, and luckily for everyone concerned the floors were concrete.)

The birthday girl’s father ended up cleaning up the mess, and politely declined my slurred offer of help.

All in all it was one of my least proud moments, though it’s been a recurring party story ever since.

Well, it’s been a long time between updates.

We’ve moved house to Louise’s Mum & Nan’s place. It’s a nice place, big enough for us all, and we have our own loungeroom to get away in. Hopefully we won’t all drive each other mad.

Moving from a house of our own to two rooms feels a bit cramped though. While there’s plenty of space in the house all up, we’re only putting our stuff in the two rooms we have at the moment, and in the garage. In order to manage this we had a (very successful) garage sale before we moved, and took more than a full ute load of stuff to the tip. We also stored a bunch of stuff at my Dad’s place, and yet we still have way too much stuff to fit.

I’m a bit of a hoarder, and so is Louise. But I think we need to get rid of even more stuff. Of course, I think that we should be getting rid of stuff that Louise hasn’t used in years, and I’m sure she thinks the same about me.

Oh well, I’ll just be glad when we’re a bit more settled.