Dear Auntie Ora
Why is all my best thinking done over a glass of beer?
More importantly, why can't I remember any of those thoughts
later?
2000 hours - 1 beer
-------------------
P: So what of it, Cassie? Feel any smarter?
C: Well, I don't know, I'm still all feeling smart that we
tricked Sibyl into paying us to go out drinking.
P: That was my idea. It doesn't count.
C: Well, if this guy's right, Pyth, then after a few more beers
you're just totally going to be like Albert Eisenhower.
P: Lemme get you another round.
2025 hours - 2 beers
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C: Oh my God, Pyth, I think that guy's checking you out.
P: What? Where? I'll bash his head in.
C: No, Pyth, it's a good thing -- over there, in the blue shirt,
with the cute little dimple. Behind the guy with the stuffed
parrot.
P: That's not the only thing in this place that's been stuffed,
if you ask me... HOI! DIMPLE BOY! Front and centre now, pally!
C: I am sooo embarassed...
2045 hours - 4 beers
--------------------
P: Men are absolute bloody pond-scum.
C: Oh Pythia, don't *hic* take it so hard.
P: Naw, I mean it, Cassie. Not a decent one in the whole bloody
lot. Except maybe for Steve and Chaz, but where are they, right?
Not here, that's truth...
C: *hic* Well, maybe that guy wouldn't have run if you hadn't
*hic* tried to get him to wrestle you.
P: Sleeper hold's a fair move! Pond-scum. Bloody pond-scum.
2115 hours - 5 beers
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C: Men *are* scum.
P: 'S all I'm sayin'.
2130 hours - 6 beers
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P: Firsht time, bloody cripesh... 'sh a long time ago, wunnit?
I'sh pretty young.
C: *hic* Really, Pyth?
P: Ayup.. I'sh... fifteen? Shixteen? Nah, fifteen... I
remember'im like 'e'z sittin' right 'ere, too... Them deep blue
eyesh, that dev'lish shmile... Long, lanky body... Oooh, jusht
the way it felt when I grabbed'im by the shouldersh, hauled 'im
down to the ground wit' me...
C: Oh, Pyth! *hic* I'm so *hic* touched you're sharing this with
me!
P: Then I put me knee 'crosh 'iz windpipe and slit 'iz belly
open. Me mum's shtill got the ol' croc shtuffed and hung over 'er
mantle back 'ome...
C: Umm...
2145 hours - 7 beers
--------------------
P: Yer me besht mate, Cashie.. I mean that...
C: hee hee hee! *hic*
P: I feel we rilly, y'know... connected... All thoshe bitchy
things I ever shaid 'bout you, Cash, I'm shorry.. Jusht
poshterin, y'know... gotta keep up the tough exshterior so'z not
t'get 'urt, y'know?
C: *hic* Hee hee hee hee!
P: *belch*
C: Pyth, I, like, really have this craving for Indian food...
let's go to the all-you-can-eat up the block!
P: Cripesh, Cashie! Yer a bloody geniush! Lead the way, old
chum.. oh.. oof! *THUD*
C: *hic* Pyth? Hee hee hee! *hic*
Results: Inconclusive. Although Cassie seemed to gain cognitive
ability, this effect may have been relative. Other conclusions
were drawn earlier, and with a great deal of certainity, but at
the current time they're rather hazy.
Further study is warranted. *hic*