The mind positively reels, as I journey back into the mists. Once upon a long dead time, when I was young and still shackled by the toils of public education, I recall a weekend-long party at a good friend of mines house. Basement, really. He inhabited his mothers basement, and on this particular evening, we had both ingested a sizable quantity of the dread LSD-25, which leads to things too gruesome for any family viewing period, even on Cable T.V.
There wasnt a toilet in the afore-mentioned basement, but there WAS a stainless-steel sink. That was the preferred receptacle for liquid evacuation, being that neither of us wished to dare the stairs and perhaps encounter his female parental unit in the process. As we stood there, side by side, blissfully evacuating our bladders into the shiny cauldron, he uttered a deathless comment. It seems my entire life has come down to pissing in the sink.
Aint it the truth. Life can be seen as pissing in the sink, if youre dead set on aiming low and never achieving a damned thingat least, according to Society. By all reports, my old friend took an early check-out. He got tired of pissing in the sink. Cant blame him. His particular star shone a little too brightly, and he couldnt wait to see life from the other side. Impatient bastard. Like Van Gogh, he just couldnt wait to see what madness he could scare up elsewhere. Me, I became semi-respectable, and survived so farbut I know what its like to piss in the sink. Thats one lesson I wont forget.
There wasnt a toilet in the afore-mentioned basement, but there WAS a stainless-steel sink. That was the preferred receptacle for liquid evacuation, being that neither of us wished to dare the stairs and perhaps encounter his female parental unit in the process. As we stood there, side by side, blissfully evacuating our bladders into the shiny cauldron, he uttered a deathless comment. It seems my entire life has come down to pissing in the sink.
Aint it the truth. Life can be seen as pissing in the sink, if youre dead set on aiming low and never achieving a damned thingat least, according to Society. By all reports, my old friend took an early check-out. He got tired of pissing in the sink. Cant blame him. His particular star shone a little too brightly, and he couldnt wait to see life from the other side. Impatient bastard. Like Van Gogh, he just couldnt wait to see what madness he could scare up elsewhere. Me, I became semi-respectable, and survived so farbut I know what its like to piss in the sink. Thats one lesson I wont forget.