It was an average Sunday afternoon for the I..m Drinkin This crew, which meant mandatory highway clean-up under the supervision of several representatives the Nebraska penal system (due to various convictions on counts of drinkin too much of this 'in public, providin too much of this to minors, peeing too much of this on neighbors houses, etc.).....I wonder if theres more to life than this,.... wondered Aaron aloud.....More than what?.... asked Mike.....Garbage,.... said Aaron.....I too have been taking stalk of things,.... said Jesse. ....A personal inventory, if you will. I have come to no conclusions other than this: I think garbage sucks.........Yes, perhaps we can do better for ourselves than garbage,.... said Brent.....You lie!.... screamed Mike, convulsing on the ground.....Look, I may have found the answer,.... said Aaron.And then, like Arthur accepting the sacred Sword from the Nubile and Available Ditch, he produced a long-abandoned mass of plastic and celluloid from the ground. It was a cassette tape, and it was every bit as noble, deadly and (kinda) phallic as Arthur..s steely birthright.....Let..s release tapes of music our friends have made,.... said Brent.And then the I..m Drinkin This braintrust were cast in a pillar of light the likes of which have not been seen since Moses dragged the arc of the convenant across the desert, only Jesse, Mike, Aaron and Brent had already found their Canaan, their promised paradise; and they called it s.a.m. martin, conchance, , no I..m the Pilot, oui Bandits, netherfriends, flamboyant gods,talking mountain,flowers forever etc etc it will say in the future.Buy this. Put it in your Walkman and move the lawn. Buy this. Put it in your car and drive to Burger King. Buy this. Put it in your ear. Drink this. Cause I am."written by the lovely pk"
