k
I’ve never been much of a Wild Child. No, really. Booze (which has, admittedly, resulted in a few mightmarish idiocies). One or two dabblings elsewhere in my youth, and that’s, really, about it. I am, I suppose, the perfect candidate for the Suburban life I’ve ended up ensconsed in.
This comes from a recent MSM chat with a much wilder young friend of mine:
Me: I’ve never tried Ketamine. I mean, no regrets and all, but still… One can’t help wondering…
Much Wilder Young Friend: Mate, trust me on this: You don’t want to. Is monging. They use that shit to put horses down.
Me: Not really me, is it? What’s wrong with Tanqueray and Tonic?
MWYF: Not sure. You’d need a lot of Gin to Put a Horse down.
Me: Not for the horses. For the Buzz. Anyway, I like being Up. Chatty. Nattering the whole night away.
MWYF: Really? Can’t say as how I’d noticed.
Me: Who would want to spend Saturday night slumped in a chair drooling on yourself.
MWYF: Time for that when you’re 80.
Me: True.