Giorno Tre: Usama, The Chunnel, and Hockey Sluts.

The situation is getting dire here folks. The coffee supply is dwindling. In light of this, the replenishment of disposable cash is appearing to be a lifetime away. I might be reduced to drinking tea. TEA!!! By God, I’m going to end up British…

Hmm, that’s not really fair is it? Tea’s not really from anywhere near the North Sea, nor the Chunnel, and in any case, there could be worse things to end up: a God-fearing Alaskan Hockey Slut… mom, I mean mom… (alright, I mean mum, but then afore mentioned Hockey Sluts would have no bloody idea what I’m talking about). Actually, it would be pretty terrible to turn into a God-fearing anything.

That’s the fucking problem with half this world. The old fucker shouldn’t be feared, if you believe in s/him (It) at all. What’s to be afraid of. It made us what we are right? It made us all hairy, self-doubters, and lovers of the orgasm. It made sure the United Hates of America would (almost) unanimously celebrate the death of Osama – and for fuck’s sake, it’s O-sama, not U-sama. I’ll give you some of the spelling USA, and even some of your weirdo pronunciations – some of them are far more sensible than the British version – and let’s not even go near the fucking Arsetralian attempts. But really, I don’t see how you turn an O into a U, just ’cause you feel like it. Or is it some FBI/CIA/Stupid Spy Shit attempt to disguise the fella? Usama Bin Laden is no more of this earth… but Osama is still out there plotting to fuck shit up! Or maybe you’ve just seen his birth certificate, and you’ve finally got it right. Certainly you’re pretty fucking adept at harassing someone until they produce proof of the whereabouts of their moment of entry into the world.

Yes, digression, I know.

I was talking about tea wasn’t I? But that was somewhat of a digression as well. The point I was trying to get to was that not only am I running out of the black gold, the substance of my continued existence, my very sanity, I am also still being stared in the face by all that fucking booze every time I open the bloody fridge. Still. I’m going to lose the plot one way or another. An abundance of Non Compos juice, or a lack of sanity serum…

Tea just won’t cut it. I’ll try, but I have my doubts. Still, it’ll help finish the milk before it goes off. As my old Gran used to say: “I’m British darling, of course I’m having milk in my tea!”

And yes, I know, I missed Secondo Giorno… I was too busy fucking up my brother’s internet connection, and reading voraciously. Half a novel, and two graphic novels in one evening… not to mention a viewing of Mad Max.

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~ by Gethin A. Lynes on May 3rd, 2011.

5 Responses to “Giorno Tre: Usama, The Chunnel, and Hockey Sluts.”

  1. Tea is good. Much better than coffee. Although I heard something interesting yesterday, and who knows if this is true or simply an unfounded, baseless rumour. Apparently, the British government/royalty (who knows;- read those in power) decided that tea should replace coffee as the national drink because they (those in power) could make more money for the country (ahem, themselves) from tea as they had interests in the tea making regions of the world, but not in the coffee ones. So there you go.

    Oh, and also, apparently the two worst power outages in British history (I would imagine this is not including anything wartime) were after particular national events when most people went to put the kettle on when it was all done. Now kettles use a fat bunch of power and this collective tea making is just too much for the power supply to cope with.

    Anyhoo, there are some tea facts for you. Enjoy.

    • Actually, the power outages in Britain story (which is an ongoing situation) goes like this: at certain times of the day the UK power grid cannot cope with the sudden spike in electricity consumption. Someone is employed to basically sit and watch for this to occur, at which point a switch is flicked (literally) which then begins to use power borrowed from continental power plants. The sudden spike coincides (I shit you not) with the end of East Enders – when everyone gets up to put the kettle on.

    • Oh, and as far as the tea versus coffee argument goes: the only larger market in the world than coffee is oil.
      And as Mr Harper says: He who is right is the Majority.

      Booyah!

  2. Mr. Harper?

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