I go, hunt Buffalo, get. crazy. drunk!
Preparation is almost complete; my solo voyage to the deep woods alone to read, sleep, and drink beyond reason is nigh; Ray Milland slowly rotates in his grave over how lost a weekend this coming one clouds over and pisses on his.
Bourbon Friday, Rum Saturday, Vodka Sunday. I haul liquid revelation in plastic handles.
I will ponder all great questions and arrive at answers metaphysically perfect, submit as you wish and await certainty and the inner peace the Bagwan only pretended he could answer.
oh, and it's a Colts-Vikings Superbowl, so you needn't even watch.
Wintercamp 2010
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Smatter Noguts
- Boozing Like Bukowski
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