Won't You Take Me to Funky Town?

Tuesday, June 15th, 2010, in the early hours before coffee has made me human

I was kind of in a funk at the weekend for some reason. The bad kind of funk, where everything's depressing, not the good kind where you groove on down to some Hendrix while smoking a fat, suspicious substance and sporting six inch platforms, purple bell-bottoms and an Afro perm big enough to hide a large family of Mormons. You know what I'm talking about. I know you people and your sexy, retro habits. You really ought to get that hole in your bedroom wall fixed by the way... You never know who's looking through that thing.

Anyway, I was in a funk, probably because it seems to have rained for a month straight and the skies are boring and grey and you know when you really want to go do something, but you don’t know what and even if you did, you probably couldn’t anyway, because it’s rainy and chilly? Well it was like that. Even the buildings look depressed. I didn’t even want to paint, or play my guitar, or use the computer, or do anything at all constructive. I just wanted to stay home and sulk while I whined to myself about how the weather is conspiring to make me insane.

Because obviously, I have a long way to go in that respect.

I'm telling you right now, however, next weekend will be different, because I'm going to have a bucket of frozen margaritas ready, mellowing in my freezer, so that rain or shine, either way I won't give a goddamn hooey. The heavens can spit soccer-ball-sized hail for all I care, because I'll be lying in the middle of the floor, my face red as a baboon's ass and a gigantic grin plastered on my face, while my veins fill up with delicious tequila. I'm actually thinking of mixing it up this time around and along with the usual tequila maybe using Malibu instead of Triple Sec, to get a little Caribbean, coconut, palm tree loving going in my 'ritas. What do you think? Worth a try? I say so! There's nothing an imperial fuckload of coconut rum can't cure, right?

Well, except maybe cancer. Or AIDS. Or Heidi Montag. Or gangrene...

Ok, rephrasing a little, let's just say that mood wise, there's nothing coconut rum can't cure and leave it at that.

Anyway, yes, Malibu is a kickass drink. If it's your clearly false opinion that it's a 'pussy lady drink', I'm not going to argue with you as I don't care, mainly because it's goddamn delicious. In fact, here's something you should try one hot, summer's day and then come back to me with your lame Malibu insults, hosers. 

Pay attention here because you'll thank me for this afterwards. Pour a double shot of Malibu in a tall sundae glass, add two scoops of vanilla or coconut ice cream and fill the rest with Sprite. Stir gently. Voila! A coconutty, alcoholic ice cream float! I warn you though, it's so good you might actually have a little secret orgasm in your mouth. Shhhhh.

Ok. I think it's time for coffee. Have a funk-free Tuesday, peeps.