Mental Constipation

So, today me and a couple of friends were out buying Christmas beer for a vorspiel/night out tomorrow. I have personally been, let’s say, slightly behind in the financial department lately, and the only money on my account was about 30 NOK. “Enough for a pint, at least!” I think for myself, and proceed to the counter. Everything goes smoothly, I can afford the beer at a measly 28.50 NOK and we all go back in the car. Now, my friend cries “Shotgun!” and makes for the passenger seat, whereupon I lunge forward, telling him that ain’t happening. I get the seat, and as I’m about to sit down, I hear a faint, hissing sound. At my feet is a beer can, conspicuously similar to the one I just purchased, and from it spurts a jet of carbonized beer from a tiny hole. My first thought is “Hey, I didn’t know Alex bought a beer. That’s gotta suck.”, then “Oh no.”

By then it couldn’t be saved, and all I could do was carry the now half-empty can, dripping with beer and mud water, to the trash bin. The money I used to buy it was the last of the money I earned from working through the entire month of July. I got to thinking: It cost about 30kr. My hourly salary was 120kr, meaning the can cost 1/4th of an hour. In other words; gravity and a brief careless moment cost me 15 minutes of summer.

Right now I’m just sitting around waiting for GTA IV to download, so that I may take my considerable bitterness out on complete, digital strangers. Which, on reflection, is a pretty distressing personal development.