More than 20 mojitos last night seems to have affected my ability to experience Saturday. Can't really write any more as it's a little difficult to see. Mmmmmmmmm, mushrooms.
My dog needed to go out and I felt a powerful yearning for coffee. Apparently the sign on the door of places with a silhouette of a dog and red line through it means no dogs, but my dog still doesn’t understand. The sign with a cigarette and a red line means no smoking although they don’t say anything if you smoke marijuana. The trick of course is to teach your dog to smoke a bong. Then everybody will leave you alone.
A girl fell off her stool, which led me to believe that we were having similar experiences. We exchanged a wordless understanding and a smile. Not a bad day after all. But then the retard came. He had a dog that reminded me of poochie and a family that reminded me of times I’ve been to court. Blank, pale, meaty faces. Chunky individuals who care deeply about justice just so long as justice means that everyone agrees they were justified in whatever it is they have done. Not my kind of people. Whingers.
And for some reason each one was carrying two or three five litre bottle of mineral water. They were obviously very thirsty. The retards mother picked up their dog but it went a bit crazy. It wanted to meet my dog and it wasn’t about to take no for an answer. It was fascinating. I can’t describe the obsessive beauty of watching a downs syndrome man and his family wrestling with a yapping mop whilst trying to balance massive quantities of bottled water knowing full well that I’m still too drunk to be capable of walking away. The only thing to do was to stay and watch and smoke and appreciate with a coffee the beginning of another beautiful day.
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