eight - we piss, we moan, we drink ourselves into a stupor.
Well, aren't you a grateful bunch? Excluding Sam, who I'm looking forward to the bacon sandwich mountain from. I bust my arse attempting to keep you, and the stories, on the verge of sanity (well, excluding Alice in Wonderland, which was never sane to begin with) and what do I get? NOTHING.
This is disappointing. For that matter, I don't know what you're so angry/upset/insert disaffected emotion here about. I'd pay good money for an afternoon in fiction.
Parker, thanks for the vodka, but really? It's quite a deceptive drink, isn't it? It doesn't taste of anything, doesn't smell of anything, doesn't look like much and then all of a sudden, you realise you're on a traffic island or attempting to liberate a spider plant and nothing makes sense anymore. I'D QUITE LIKE MY WINE BACK. I'd quite like a 20 man investigation into WHY MY WINE IS NO LONGER IN MY ROOM, but I guess that's too much to ask.
I'm going to camp in the library with some coffee, a cigarette and a book.
[Private to Otto]
How's the cooking going? How's the Kant going?
Fancy asking some of your inmate friends where my wine's gone to?
This is disappointing. For that matter, I don't know what you're so angry/upset/insert disaffected emotion here about. I'd pay good money for an afternoon in fiction.
Parker, thanks for the vodka, but really? It's quite a deceptive drink, isn't it? It doesn't taste of anything, doesn't smell of anything, doesn't look like much and then all of a sudden, you realise you're on a traffic island or attempting to liberate a spider plant and nothing makes sense anymore. I'D QUITE LIKE MY WINE BACK. I'd quite like a 20 man investigation into WHY MY WINE IS NO LONGER IN MY ROOM, but I guess that's too much to ask.
I'm going to camp in the library with some coffee, a cigarette and a book.
[Private to Otto]
How's the cooking going? How's the Kant going?
Fancy asking some of your inmate friends where my wine's gone to?