you damn dirty ape!

ayup, ffej. a drink at the club sounds so far beyond spectacular that it sucks all over again, and upon arriving at sucks, it ascends everything around it, rendering suck awesome and tipping the scales of perspective forever. chaos ensues, cats and dogs sleeping together, the dead walking the earth, which i think would cause the majority of folks (you and i are NOT majority, butch) to utter "This sucks!" and Lo, there was balance again.

all that from a harmless little martini.

harmless, you say? indeed, when encountered singly. but be most WARY, young imbiber, of stumbling onto the dreaded pack martini. oh, the danger.

little, you also say? may the ghost of sir winston churchill poop in your kharmic cereal for such obsenity! the only time "little" can be used to describe a martini is when referring to the effect it had on you as pertains to justifying to She Who Must Be Adored that you really really could, and therefore should, order another one.

i, kind readers, am a very very odd duck.