It
gets you out of your head to start with.
Secondly,
the house of your choice will have the happiness of a married home,
but
on
tap. Sex by the glass. A range of professionally prepared dishes of
decent food
You
can enjoy for once. Discuss the pressing issues of the day. Such as
who
should
press the button on the satellite remote? Who should press for
damages. And
who
should press your shirts. Who should vote. Should we take a vote on
it maybe?
And
should we fuck. After that, you can proceed to noisier venues, where
the sound
of
kids being groped is drowned by that of epileptic drum machines on
crack.
Pull
a teenager on the pill, imagine what she’d look like on her back,
buy her a drink
perhaps,
after slipping her Rohypnol and getting her separated from the pack.
Phone
her
a taxi. Call her a whore. Rummage through her clothes and leave her
naked
on
the stairs of a student flat. Or failing that, do her outside
anonymously in the
street.
All depends whether you want to make it to the fight, inevitably
breaking out
across
town. As we puke to random strangers trying to speak
the smoked and pickled languages of
love.
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