I am Joe Blog’s Left Ventricle

Mon August 29, 2005

95%

I’m wearing black jeans with white sneakers, some funkulent black-on-black shirt, a black coat. I’m carrying a black sports bag with one hand, and a bright pink strawberry smoothie in the other.

In the bottom of the bag is a pair of shoes, and a pair of 500ml bottles of near-pure alcohol. 95% ethanol, 5% water. But I’m not going to a lab. I’m not going to start fires. I’m going Home, to meet up with some friends and drink the shit.

I have a pretty simple attitude to alcohol consumption. It’s a fucking drug. I want it as pure as I can get it, in the most cost-effective format available.

Enter Spirytus, the violent polish spirit of doom. I guess it’s potentially dangerous - it *is* powerfully combustible, and if you drank enough in a short enough period of time it would certainly kill you stone dead. But we treat it like triple-strength vodka. The way I mix it, just enough to cover the bottom of the glass, your taste buds tell you that you’re just drinking orange juice… but you get a little wilder with every drink.

One bottle will get a room full of ten people very, very drunk. And guess what? If you drink enough water / plain juice / cordial / whatever afterwards, you wake up sans hangover. This is fact: half the reason you get hangovers is dehydration, and this can be counteracted by re-hydrating. The other half comes from the impurities, non-ethanol alcohols (EG methanol, a powerful carsenogen), preservatives and other assorted batshit the alcohol-corporations put in your drink. Pure alcohol plus rehydration post drinking = no hangover. You wake up the next morning feeling a little lethargic and very, very relaxed… but no headache, no nausea, no nothing.

Of course if you try to do shots or mix it too strong, you will vomit uncontrollably. Your body isn’t stupid: it knows when it’s being poisoned. Put 2mm of this crap in a mug and set fire to it (use a long taper, it gets hot fast) and it will burn for several minutes, lighting a dark room with a pure blue flame, and leave almost no residue behind.

Virgin kisses. I’ve had people describe to me that they feel a better kind of drunk on it… less packed with cotton wool - unhinged and uninhibited but still aware and energetic. Personally I wouldn’t know… when I can’t get Spirytus I get Bacardi or high quality vodka….. I’ve always been into purity.

So why am I carrying two bottles? Well, I’m up for two nights…

***

It’s about 2am. My brain has had about fifteen too many virgin kisses. I am sprawled on the lounge fascinated by a half-full box of freezing cold, clammy KFC chips. Half the room full of people is watching me in fascination. My lifetime friend, Ben, is eating them with me - one at a time. We take turns taking one out of the packet, eating it and describing its putrescence. The cold, slimy congealed oil… the overcooked ones that crumble to dry mush, the undercooked ones that splat open in your mouth like a rapist’s ejaculation… I can hear and feel myself screaming with laughter at my and Ben’s comments. This is the funniest thing I’ve ever done.

***

3am…

“Back in the 1840’s… when Wollongong was still a whaling town, a lone humpback, suicidally depressed at the murder and mutilation of its entire family, beached itself, expired, and began to rot. It’s putrid flesh has been broiling in the hot sun ever since. Maggots, crows, seagulls and crabs have feasted on its seeping intestines for a hundred and sixty years. Until this morning, when zitty-faced teenagers employed by mcdonalds harvested the scrapings from these very pustulent guts, and moulded them into the patty found in this very filet ‘o’ fish”

I take a bite and almost chuck. After describing it thus, it tastes like rotting whale intestines. I never liked filet’o'fish-es, I bought it to be funny. It’s working. Choking, I pass it to Ben, who takes a big bite without hesitation. I guess there advantages to being stoned.

“I think you are mistaken. This is not those scrapings, but perhaps the crushed bodies of many thousands of maggots found on the vile carcass. Or perhaps it is merely the sweepings - NAY! The scrapings from the fish market floor?” He proceeds to eat half of it, before the sheer revulsion overtakes him too.

Presently, Paula walks in wolfs it down. I guess there are more benefits still to being out of earshot…

Sat August 20, 2005

woah

I can’t believe I actually posted that. As an aside, every word of it is perfectly true. The only thing I have doubts about is the predictions, which are guesses. I’m nowhere near big enough to simulate the world and the human race.

That’s what planet earth is for.

Fucked if I’ll change that post though. I’ve thought about it, but ultimately, that was me at me my most open and honest, why come back from that?