Thursday, August 23, 2007

The Handshake Drugs

I can't make a decent martini. It's a god damned shame. I'm so talented in so many other ways, but I can't make my favorite tasty beverage.

This is hell - to have the means to make a perfect martini, but continually failing to achieve even mere adequecy.

My mediocore martinis burden my soul. My manhood is shattered. My alcoholism is embarrased. I weep over my impotence as a confectioner of intoxicants.

So I sit here alone, sipping on dry gin w/ the outlines of vermouth nipping at the back of my throat. There is no smoothness to it. It tastes like the afterburn of a mulberry jet fighter.

But I sip, and I sip some more. The onset of inebreation makes my 'tini a little tastier.

Actually, after six sips, it's not that bad.