I don't drink alone, and I don't drink at home. Both of the preceding claims have just been thrown out the window. To my right is a bottle of Heineken. Sounds like alcoholism is in the midst. My friend Annie just blogged about her newly discovered alcoholism, so I guess that makes me a no good follow-fashion. I'll drink to that.
You know, I could have been Dutch. My parents were considering moving there before my conception. Then I would have been born in the land of Heineken. Plus I would have been exposed to world-class futebol. I would've been a Jamaican living in the European capital of marijuana. This ample supply of ganja, and my consequent desire to indulge in it, would've opened to me various philosophical doors to which I am so rarely exposed here in the borough. With legal prostitution, and the inquisitive nature of youth, I would have no reason to lament over girl problems, as the solution would always be easily accessible. Every other world cup is in europe, so I'd rarely have to pay airfare. Being dutch would have its upsides for me.
1 comment:
But what if you had been born in Holland, but your parents decided to move down here, or somwhere else....than what?
it's all good jamil, you were here so we could finally smoke at some point...definitly need to do it before school ends!
(Nicole)
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