Maybe I'm just liquor, which I am, but why do all good conversations seem to stem from a bit of indulgence at the bar? I had a long and involved conversation, involving much arm movement and raised voices about whether getting an MBA makes one an asshole, or asshole just seem to get MBAs. Then we got serious about the philisophical questions of our time, and I seem to have been drunk enough to remember none of it.
This makes sense now that I think of it. Do you think Martin Luther was sober, or was he liquored and thinking, "This will piss the Bishop off to no end. He'll never know who did it, and he'll be so worried that he will ignore his sweet little "virginal" helper, and I'll have to comfort her. And her sisters, and her friends, and other women that I've never even met, cause I'm DRUNK AND I'M FEELING READY TO TAKE ON THE FUCKING WORLD. FUCK ROME AND FUCK THE POPE!! I WANT A RELIGION WHERE I CAN BE A DRUNKEN BASTARD!!!
The preceding passage may have been embellished for television.
Jeremiah
- searching for a Pope hat.