that guinness is an alternative thirst quencher?
and i've had resigned to the fact - not too long ago - that i can no longer quaff guinness as i used to many moon's ago - at least four to five pint's in one sitting [read: at least about 10 to 12 hour's] without gettin the woozies. only to discover lately that even a pint and slightly a half more would scramble me brainwaves rightly.
i know, i've turned into a complete wimp. no, it's the darn agein thing, more like it.
it could be the horrifyingly scorchin weather that made wee islander's wilt on the first half of the day today. the sun shone so bright that it blinded em said islander's.
alright, i just couldn't resist lookin longingly across the road that leads to the local - whilst meeting up a customer at starbucks. who started to whinge about the soarin temperatures just half an hour into our discussion. and thrice more.
whingein aussie. anyways, me brain was already screamin: "go to some place with air condition!" when the clock struck 12. noon. and then the image of the local loomed large.
heh, resistance is futile. so, i found meself crossin the road at the signals, like as if me leg's took complete control. and then i emerged from the local, about an hour and a half later more alert. and with a broad contented smile on me face.
guinness + bacon sarnie + the weekend footy highlights on the telly = *pure* bliss
but only for a gaggle of five young US navy types to shatter me eardrum's - loud and boisterous speech, feeble attempt at sarcasm and glazed stare at each passin bird.
GRRR....
and for fuck's sake, it's called F-O-O-T-B-A-L-L in these parts. not SOCCER damn it.
double GRRR.....
disclaimer: may i add that not ALL yank's are loud. nor are they rude. nor do they dress gawdily loud - tacky pseudo hawaiian shirt's come to mind - bleurgh. i know of a handful of fabtastic american's personally and i'm not sayin this to score brownie point's. like everywhere else on the blue marble, there are villages missin their idiot's.