Andreas by Night and After Whiskey.

Quoted quite freely from a phone conversation a deux, during which, Andreas often chooses to fill the uncomfortable silences with beatnik poetry.

"Oh Nazi, how I loathe thee.
I watch you out of the corner of my eye like a bad nightmare receding into the night.
How can you tell who is a Nazi?
Well if you play march music, they all start marching. That's how you can tell who the Nazis are.
And if you look at them from the corner of your eye - don't stare directly at them or they will stop - but if you don't stress yourself to see them, you can see them building motorways.
Then you'll see them.
Nazis.
And then just play some march music.
Nazi, how I loathe thee."

Me myself, well, it's 'Party, how I loathe thee'. Dan's 25th birthday party takes place tonight, which is a shame, it involves socialising with humans and getting very very drunk for other reason than being able to give the appearance of enjoying home-made banana cake. Damn that banan cake. Never known anyone who liked banan cake who wasn't a fruit-fly.

There'll be candle-blowing & gift giving, and, if I'm extraordinarily lucky, a pinata. Never understood the gift giving part. We should be celebrating mothers! That little pink blob is no Indiana Jones! Tell me, Foetus, when last did you try to escape a stone rolling down a hill by running directly in front of it, and then escaping in the very last minute by grabbing one of the ten million vines hanging above your head?

When last did you try squeezing yourself out of yourself for seven hours straight without morphine?

Have you ever even been to a lamaze class with thirty other big-bellied women of dubious hygein?

You
deserve
no
cake you wine infested sock-monkey.

[haiku, traditional.]

party it is.
And may god have mercy on my soul, but I'm a sucker for celebration.