A Fifth of Therapy » Blog Archive

Nov 19th, 2005 by Kimberley

the heat is broken in my room for some reason. there’s no joy. i bought a small space heater so as not to freeze until i can figure out what’s going on with it. this “small” heater puts out enough heat to heat an entire village in antarctica. i fully expect to die a horrible fiery death in my bed one night because the damn thing just got overheated and burst into flames. not that i’m a fatalist or anything. that is, if the brain tumor doesn’t get me first.

but all that will just have to wait because despite my recent spate of horrible, awful bad luck on the road i’m going back out again. i’ll be leaving today for a week long trip to california where i’m told it’s still warm enough not to need space heaters. let’s just see what hideous luck will befall me this time! too bad pat robertson isn’t available to accompany me. then nothing would go wrong! goodbye everyone. i’ll remember you all in therapy!

Posted in Travel | 2 Comments

2 Responses to “”

Anji says:

November 20, 2005 at 3:58 am

Keep warm in California!
McMeanie says:

November 21, 2005 at 12:27 pm

We all anxiously await the hammer, underwear, and elk tally at the end of your voyage…

MM

Let us toast to animal pleasures, to escapism, to rain on the roof and instant coffee, to unemployment insurance and library cards, to absinthe and good-hearted landlords, to music and warm bodies and contraceptives… and to the ‘good life,’ whatever it is and wherever it happens to be.
Hunter S. Thompson
08/04/10
These are the best days of our lives. That’s a terrible thing to know.
Pirate Radio
08/03/10
07/27/10

One should always be drunk. That's all that matters; that's our one imperative need. So as not to feel Time's horrible burden; one which breaks your shoulders and bows you down, you must get drunk without cease.

But with what? With wine, poetry, or virtue as you choose. But get drunk.

And if, at some time, on steps of a palace, in the green grass of a ditch, in the bleak solitude of your room, you are waking and the drunkenness has already abated, ask the wind, the wave, the stars, the clock, all that which flees, all that which groans, all that which rolls, all that which sings, all that which speaks, ask them, what time it is; and the wind, the wave, the stars, the birds, and the clock, they will all reply:

"It is time to get drunk!

So that you may not be the martyred slaves of Time, get drunk, get drunk, and never pause for rest! With wine, poetry, or virtue, as you choose!"

Charles Baudelaire

2 Responses to “”

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