Thursday, January 22, 2009

Sphinctorial Response: Ummm... not quite sure what this is about.

The following is a special guest entry from Pope Terry... and is deliriously stupid

Ok so the big fella is sick and has decided that I should fill in for him. It’s just a cold so don’t worry he’ll be back on soon, he tells me the sore throat he has was more persistent overly edgy mail order bride. I’m not quite sure what that means, or the statement that he’d been slamming ‘Strepsils’ and ‘Difflam’ like they were half tabs of acid. I think the fever was getting to him, moving on though.

Not just an opinion this week some advice as well, you know how much I like giving you all advice don’t you. Well open your ears and listen up kids this is truly going to be worthy of your time. Firstly alcohol is the gateway to many things, depression, liver disease, pissing oneself, pissing on someone else’s self, and possibly arrest. It’s also the key to a real good time. Something I learnt a short while ago on New Years Eve. Being drunk is one of the most worthwhile experiences you can well, experience.

Best 7 years of my life were spent outside his window

Few things beat it, riding your first dugong, successfully stalking the White Mighty Morphin Power Ranger for 7 years, and nailing any member past of present of the Mickey Mouse club. Apart from those, being drunk is probably the best thing on earth. Because when you’re drunk, you’re less inhibited, you’re free to say and to do what you want. Consequences be damned, that’s something ‘Sober’ you has to deal with. Not many people realise this, but you actually have two people living inside you. It’s somewhat similar to Scientology, only more legit.

Your ‘Sober’ self is the one in charge most of the time, they are evil and hate filled beings though, existing only to quell the ‘Drunk’ you. It’s like yin and yang, karma, Socrates mentioned it somewhere and it’s in the bible as well. Jesus was a big believer that only your true self can be unleashed with booze, why do you think he was always turning water into wine. It’s a common theory in most cultures that the drunken self must be unleashed. Set forth on the world like a loud functionally retarded monkey. Throwing poo and banana’s at passersby, until those people look at it.

"So I wake up with this fat chick, anyway fast forward a few minutes and she catches me trying to escape through the privy window wearing nothing but my sandles and a pasta ladle... good times."

Which is what the drunken self wants, to be the centre of attention. Which gets us onto today’s lesson, being the centre of attention is the most important thing ever. And one can only achieve this by being the drunkest. Never mind if that means you end up on your friends couch passed out covered in texta and your own piss and vomit. That’s not something ‘Drunk’ you has to worry about, and that’s the you that matters, not ‘Sober’ you. ‘Sober’ you thinks it’s probably a good idea to go home at twelve. Not shave your own eyebrows off, then try and convince your neighbours that a threesome is the best possible outcome of them finding you sitting on their roof, eating peaches from a can.

You must fight your ‘Sober’ self to achieve this, so when some one asks you whether you want that Jager Bomb, the answer should be yes. Drunken you is in there screaming to get out, he/she wants to party, wants to be celebrated. And wants ‘Sober’ you to wake up in the garage the next morning asleep on a piece of carpet with nothing in their pocket but some pruning sheers they have stolen from somewhere, and no memory how they got home. It’s that lack of what the hell happened the night before that ‘Drunk’ you craves. It’s only important that other people remember what you were doing, not you. isn't quite sure what just happened...


  1. I have yet to ride a dugong. Or even see one...I think.

  2. I pinch sum ov Daddy's Guinness sumtimes.



  3. What is the address of Pope Terry's site?

  4. Sober me rugby tackled drunk me and staple gunned her arse to the dungeon floor almost a couple of decades back now - 'twas harsh but very, very necessary.

    She still slips the bolts out every now and then though, sneaks out to mortify ol' sober-sides once in a while. It's almost always worth it. Grin.

  5. I feel so special when I respond, bourgeois whispers. Wow, I am like totally fancy now. Anyway, I have been reading your blog for awhile and I love it. I figured I would let you know instead of just hanging in the background like a crazy stalker. I would be willing to do a link exchange if you were interested. I always enjoy linking to great blogs. Have a look at mine and let me know if you are interested: Http://

  6. They sell peaches in a can?

  7. NurseMyra- Hey don't blame me, this is all the Pope... although waking in a garage on some carpet with the pruning sheers does sound oddly familiar.

    CanadianFermentation- Its well worth the fine or jailtime you receive

    Bob The Bear Esquire- Good show young lad

    Matt- Pope Terry lives here with me, we inhabit many things together, a website a house, a body...

    Shrinky- You let her win... I'll try not to sound to dissappointed, but well its probably a good thing, saves you losing your wallet EVERYDAY!

    Scott- I think you'll find being a crazy stalker and one of my readers are much the same thing, but thanks for commenting and I'll pop on over

    VE- Yes, they are put there by a man!


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