Thursday, 28 June 2007

Where did I go? Why do you care?

It seems like a good time to do another entry - if this page was a child DHS would have taken it off me by now. I'll try to pay better attention to its literary needs, run the spell check over it regularly and give it a dose of grammar if it's feeling a bit under the... um... server? This analogy is working about as well as a fish wearing a... Well, let's just say it's shite. Note to self - work on analogies.

It's time for a holiday. My Girl and I are looking at wandering away for a long weekend - a full-blown mini-break! (Bridget was such a twat in the second movie - what the hell did they think they were doing? Dickheads.) Maybe up to Sydney, maybe to Queensland - not sure yet. There's lots of people to catch up with and get delightfully sloshed with. Or perhaps just smashed. I think the difference between sloshed and smashed has nothing to do with the amount of alcohol - it's all in the levels of exuberance and geniality that someone displays under the influence - it's the difference between nodding off and passing out. Between hurling in the front yard and on the dance floor. Nature plus nurture plus alcohol equals extreme concentration to avoid looking too drunk, or not caring how drunk you are. Regardless, both can lead to vom vom.

In general, sloshed = genial and slightly restrained ("Maybe it's not such a good idea to fall asleep in the toilet. Ooh, that couch looks comfy..."). Smashed = unrestrained and wildly exuberant (Jaysus I love you. I love you. You're so pretty..." *wipes mouth* "Sorry 'bout your shoes..." *falls over*).

The exception to this rule would be goon - I don't think it's possible for anyone to be elegantly drunk after four litres of chateau cardboard. Especially if drunken from a spinning clothesline. Goon of Fortune! Where's Baby John when you need him?

The difference between the two can also be measured using a protractor. An average lean greater than 15 degrees from vertical = smashed. Less = sloshed. If you find yourself hovering around the 15 degree mark, you may be in the curious transitional zone known as smoshed. This boundary layer is the region in which you may find yourself elegantly stumbling, and holding entirely rational conversations with people who cannot understand a word you are saying because of the slurring. You'll notice, but you won't care. It's a lovely state - trouble, like a bird, flies away. It returns later and attacks you in a phone booth (as Hitchcock foresaw), but it's a lovely state, all the same. It is my goal to reach and prolong this state on Saturday during a winery tour around Echuca.

And away we go...


mist1 said...

You own a protractor? I think I might still have one around here somewhere. I still have my graphing calculator. It's larger than any other electronic device that I own. Bonus points for using "protractor" in a blog post.

tim said...

Jaysus! How did you find me? Did I show up when I linked to you or something?

I'm... well, I own TWO calculators, one graphing and one normal, and still use them. I'm an engineer, I'm afraid - it's a dirty, dirty disease, and I'm trying to get rid of it, but nothing seems to work. And it's so hard trying not to scratch myself in public.

mist1 said...

I am good at finding people. I am also good at scratching myself in public.

Now, try not to sound so horrified that I found you.