"I'm going to smoke tonight!" I declared. Because that's how rock 'n' roll I am after two glasses of wine and the wost Caipirinha ever made. Rock 'n' roll enough for it not to be rock and roll, but still geeky enough to check the correct punctuation before committing it to my blog. Yeah! Nothing incites rebellion like a jug of fouled cachaça and limes.
I didn't smoke, though. I had wine, white Russians and weissbier before I crashed headlong into the Campari but I didn't have so much as one delicious cigarette. The Jaffa Cake's brother was there, you see, and I desperately want him to like me. I've been doing well so far. "It's like kids with Rock Shandy" he said. "I'm getting used to you. You don't make me so hyper any more."
Aw.
And so, anxious to hold on to his approval, I chewed this compliment like a nicotine gum. Bought an Irish Times instead of 20 slims in the late night Centra, had tea and toast in bed instead of a Brian Cowen meal in Burger King.
Perhaps I am rock and roll after all.
I didn't smoke, though. I had wine, white Russians and weissbier before I crashed headlong into the Campari but I didn't have so much as one delicious cigarette. The Jaffa Cake's brother was there, you see, and I desperately want him to like me. I've been doing well so far. "It's like kids with Rock Shandy" he said. "I'm getting used to you. You don't make me so hyper any more."
Aw.
And so, anxious to hold on to his approval, I chewed this compliment like a nicotine gum. Bought an Irish Times instead of 20 slims in the late night Centra, had tea and toast in bed instead of a Brian Cowen meal in Burger King.
Perhaps I am rock and roll after all.
