I told that son of a bitch twice;
I asked for the Jack and Coke,
Not rum and Coke,
Not Coke on ice,
Jack and fucking Coke!
And he looks at me all high and proper and says,
"God, man, what's the difference?".
I look him square in his ricochet grin and I say,
"The hell with you because if you don't know what flavour's your flavour,
then we're not really having this conversation."
And with that, I upended my giant spooling surface, table and ashtray and flew into a legend to have this asshole-fucking bartender describing me as,
'A mad psycho who's really drunk and threw that table at me for no fucking reason, babbling about flavours. Immortalizing a bar myth for wanting a Jack and Coke and proving a point by punctuating with flying furniture.'
To each his own, I guess.
Current Residence: United Kingdom
Favourite genre of music: Mainly metal, but anything else that appeals to me.
Favourite style of art: Literature, Music.
Operating System: Windows Vista
MP3 player of choice: iPod Classic