The Intellect Manifesto

I have a sore throat, a painful lump on my head, a blue and black bruise on my shoulder and the dishevelled hair of a good night out. I vow to myself right now never to touch a drop of vodka unless my life depended on it. And even so, it's has to be hanging by a thread.

Highlights of last night:

  • Vodka.
  • Vomiting so hard my nuts felt like they were in a vice.
  • Vodka.
  • Getting picked up and spun around by one friend while getting elbowed in the head by another.
  • Getting into a mock street fight with another friend in the middle of Darling Harbour.
  • Vodka.
  • Kebab. Well...I say kebab but what I had wasn't a kebab. What I had could only be described as chilli sauce with a hint of meat and a dashing of lettuce. Sweet beautiful ambrosia.
  • The recurrence of vodka in a reverse fashion.
  • My car smelling of vomit.

Highlights of today:

  • Waking up.
  • Wishing for a fast and painless death.

That is all.
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