I think I'm allergic to tequila. Which I'm sure everybody says. But honestly, it doesn't get me drunk, I just get a near-instantaneous splitting headache. It's like a hangover without the fun.
Quite, I think I'm allergic to tequila too.
Ever time I drink it I get all light-headed, have trouble speaking and tend to crash my car.
Ah, a cunning plan to goad your readers into telling their own stories about the humiliating things they've done under the influence of drugs or alcohol.
You over-estimate my intelligence, Herr Doktor.
If I was going to goad my readers into such an activity, I'd discuss my vodka and benzedrine rampages at Catholic school.
My brief flirtation with a career as an international crack baron might make for interesting reading too.
No goading? Just as well. I have nothing to contribute, except the occasional vulgar brawl down at the Old Entomologist after I've been talking trash about deconstructionism. My life has become boring and predictable since the police confiscated my grenade launcher.
New Zealand confiscates grenade launchers?
Dammit, I thought you were supposed to be an enlightened society.
They'll get my grenade launcher when they pry it from my cold, dead hands.
I don't want to comment on the state of my hands if they try to take my porno.
You can rest assured that New Zealand is as puritanical, authoritarian and restrictive as the UK. Our image as a society of self-sufficient freedom-loving pioneering folk is a joke. Whenever a novel form of enjoyment or self-expression is devised, the two main political parties have a competition to see which will be the first to draft a law to ban or control it. There is even talk of confiscating my collection of preserved body parts. Needless to say, they'll only get my cold dead hands when they pry them from my cold dead hands.
Commenting by HaloScan
