This whole “life” thing would’ve been a lot easier, for me and everyone else, if only my parents had kept paint-stripper under the kitchen sink instead of premium Polish vodka.
At least that’s what I tell myself I was looking for all those years ago.
I love the smell of paint-stripper.
Vodka is a stripper in it’s own right. Here are some things that vodka strips me of:
- morals (some, or all)
- layers of my liver
- senses (one, or all)
- this fucking albatross
- clothes (some, or all)
- shoes (one, or both)
Paint-stripper is cheaper than vodka.
Vodka is cheaper than a female stripper.
One of the above I have so far avoided becoming.
Two of the above may kill me once ingested.
All of the above relate to my favourite hobbies: art, drinking, and sex.
I don’t know.
Maybe the world would be a better place if we were