i never have drank so much cristal; especially not since that time i spent huddled in a bomb shelter during the wwii bombings of england. damn those v-series rockets, but bless them, too, for inviting such cheer & hospitality amongst the rubble. but now i've got alcohol breath, prompting jenny to confirm that indeed, alchohol does live in me. i have been saying for years that its a symbiotic relationship, & finally, pay off. not to mention the pay off in bling-bling, aka mad cristal drinking craziness at the casa de ill. what really classed up the evening was drooling on myself when i fell asleep. hows that for fred astair, ya fucks?