too cool for salt and lime

getting drunk is for special people, the elite, the bravest of them all. its not for everyone. its specifically for a certain breed of people who risk mornings of terror for the good of fabulous nights. its not an easy task, getting drunk, not as easy as it may seem. it takes effort, courage and a stamina that must have been trained from the tender age of 10 when you started stealing liquor from drunk relatives at parties. and never be fooled by ones appearance. even the strongest men and women end up whimpering on their knees, with their arms frantically clutching a toilet bowl, while their entire bodies convulse at high speed spasms trying to eradicate all the waste that the body just cannot process. its the weak ones who stumble back to their beds/floors promising themselves that they shall never again drink. the strong ones wake up, shove a finger down their throat, and then lay back after a violent puke and say "fuck yes. good times!" and for these promising individuals a hangover is the small, but necessary price to pay, as a way of paying homage to the gods of such plain, but poweful, bloody good nights.

there are two kinds of people in the world.
those who cant drink. and those who do.