Sprite

Hello all. So I just got back today from the killer-est three day manori trip. I would tell you all about it but I'm still bewildered by the Sprite incident. And if you're a person that's been screwed over by a soft drink, you'll understand why I'm still suspicious of all liquids in green bottles.

Anyway, point is, I washed the dishes. Played some badminton. Chilled a bit, ate potatoes..all the while wondering if I should drink again cos who drinks two nights in a row and won't I feel sick tomorrow. (I did drink again and I didn't feel too sick on the morrow). It took a couple of hours, a weak will and a lot of courage; but I got up and poured myself some gin. Where there's gin there will be Sprite, so I threw in a glassful. Sat down. Stretched. Sipped. And spat it out.

Have you ever tasted gin and water, Dear Reader? I hope not, cos I'm a sweet person that wishes you well. Its really not something you want to allow into your system unless your taste buds are dysfunctional. So I poured it out. Sad waste of good gin that was soon to be finished by the way, but I didn't think of it then. So I poured myself another drink. Went all the way upstairs opened another bottle of sprite and went all the way back downstairs. Found a nice spot. Sat down. Anticipated the taste of perfectly mixed gin and sprite. Sipped. Spat. Sigh. And now you think its becoming a habit. But really, I swear, I would never intentionally make a gin and water drink in order to keep spitting it out. So I poured it out again. All I can say is, some of those plants in Goldy's garden are having a little party of their own right now.

Anyway. I gave up. Threw up my hands and asked someone else to pour some real sprite out for me. The rest of the night was pretty uneventful. Partly cos the gin got over and I switched to whiskey– Pepsi, unlike sprite, is not colorless and therefore cannot pose as water. So I drank my weight in alcohol (that's not much really, so chill), passed out and woke up dehydrated today morning. Looked everywhere for water. After half an hour,and no rehydrating liquid in sight, I finally went down and asked Goldy where the fuck is all the water gone.

It was in a sprite bottle.

*dies*

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Author: Kirtana K

I paint and make music and blog like a maniac. These days I try to run. But I have chicken legs and lungs the size of two-rupee balloons. I fail. I like pajamas and striped socks and books that read like song and songs that sound like poetry and strangers who read this page. And Maggi when I'm sick or cold or sad or celebrating. They'll find noodles in my veins if ever they cut me open. And potatoes. And maybe a tiny bit of whiskey. I'll be an Unidentified Living Object and they'll put my insides on display. It will be crazy. It will be awesome. It will.

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