Drink! For tomorrow we shall die.

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>For tomorrow we shall die.
I hope so.

>>38858278
Yeah, I hope so too, anon. People always say "any day could be your last" and I'm just here tapping my foot impatiently. I should probably step out of my room more often, I guess.

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skal!

>>38858202
That pic was from a /b/ thread,a Monks Appreciating Wine set of pictures,right?

The rare untypical sort...

>>38858350
but there is nothing outside the room to look forward to

>>38858202
Dubs dies tommorrow.

>>38858488
Death, silly. Maybe I should go out for walks at 3am

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>>38858202
>>38858350
>>38858278
>>38858579
>>38858664
>get blackout drunk in very sketchy part of the city
>wander around in the dark cause want to die, its like 3am
>completely blacked out
>wake up the next morning completely fine with all of my belongings and a blanket and pillow on a couch 10 blocks away
>random person apparently decided to help me

WHAT THE FUCK

WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

>>38858364
I'm not sure...I think I snagged it years ago.

I'm trying to get high enough tonight that I forget about the impending doom that I have brought on myself. Maybe I'll get lucky and my heart will cut out in the morning.

>>38858202
>Drink! For tomorrow we shall die.

There's something amusing about an image of an old cenobite with a glass of liquor in his hand, a sloppy smile on his bloated, wrinkled face. Here we have a portrait of one of the eunuchs for the Kingdom of Heaven, one of those rare individuals who has purportedly forsaken the rough pleasures of Earth for the rarefied joys reserved for those who commend themselves to Heaven.

This is a man who cloistered himself, naively believing that his sacrifice would win him the same sort of orgasmic ecstasies Saint Theresa enjoyed when the Angel of the Lord appeared and pierced her side with His spear.

Much to his dismay, the visions never came. He signed a contract, sold his youth and humanity to God hoping to becoming something like an angel, and learned far too late that he had been cheated. Years passed and his once taut skin grew saggy. His hair grayed and thinned, the glow of his eyes dimmed. Once innocent passions became warped by a lifetime of deprivation and, during those long nights when he kept vigil desperately hoping to see the face of God, it wasn't angels that visited him but the most grotesque of devils.

The blood of God failed to provide salvation so our monk reversed the sacrament of the Eucharist, undid the spell of cast by the priests, and made it wine. Failing to win Heaven by forsaking Earth, he had nothing left save the liquor that offered a moment of numbness as the fires of Hell seared his aging flesh. Christ having turned a deaf ears to his pleas, our frustrated devotee cried out to Dionysus. The pagan god answered when the Christian god refused to. Granted, Bacchus didn't have Paradise to offer, merely oblivion. But the monk accepted that gift with the utmost gratitude. Heaven was just as unreachable as the stars shining in the midnight sky, and its light even more distant, but the numbness of liquor, that taste of hollow peace, was as close to him as the glass he held in his hand.

>>38858202
>drink too much
>get drunk
>try talking reasonably with my gf about a few things
>upset her horribly
>too drunk to continue discussing
>turns into an argument
>as I sober up, just make things worse

no fuck you OP
fuck you

>>38859652
fucking tripfaggots

>>38858278
End me, Pete

>>38859502
I appreciate

A+ for effort, A+ for coherence, A- for loquaciousness

>>38858278
why is the oregano question ertaining to this qui?