i always know spring is here when my shot glasses are being used to hold dandelions instead of the vodka i use to keep warm all winter. i also keep some in a flask inside my fur-lined parka, so when i'm out tending to my herds, in a blizzard, in the arctic depths of january, i can keep my toes from losing all feeling, succumbing to frostbite, having to be amputated by old man petrov down the way with his rusty scissors and then dying from the gang green that would inevitably claim my frigid, drunken life.
all right. all right. that story was completely fake. i made it all up. i don't even drink.
well, i do, but it's rare. i do idiotic things while under the influence. one time, i rode my best friend's eight year olds bike down the hill of their driveway with my pants off (i was hot). i fell off in the middle of the street, because i tried to turn too sharply, and skinned my knee to a bloody pulp. then i puked.
that last story, well that was a true story unfortunately.
