Eau de terminal alcoholic

by ling’ling

A thousand stories told ten thousand times in the tones of a thousand Marlboros and ten thousand more.

The Amazonian whore prostrate before his phallus, respecting this cock as countless before and thereafter. Interpol frantic. His conquests as stars in heaven and fish in a sea of pilsner.

A tender moment portrayed to breathless audiences from Seoul to Yantai to Min’nan: Laopo’s girlish ecstasy at first sight of his Viking manhood. ‘Hon bara woah!!’ Triumph relived ad delirium. Beers for breakfast and beers with Benny. Fluently incoherent in several languages and effortlessly offensive in more.

Eau de terminal alcoholic no amount of Colgate can oppress. Sweet sickening hint of fermented citrus parades briefly as ill-chosen aftershave before the punchline revealed:  the distilled rankness of a decades long bender. It’s one long happy university and everyone’s invited.

A madman embalmed in the bottomless tankard of his lager-filled aquarium, booming drunkenly over the din of another Jäger fueled Fujian Thursday night Charlie Foxtrot. Through pounding bass and piercing treble a voice with a question for the ages:

‘WHO THE FUCK IS ALICE?’