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Yep, just as Revelation predicted, on the heels of war comes famine—the strange self-chosen famine of the overfed society—announced by a black horse the size of an apartment building . It nearly ran me down on a tiny street at campus center, when its driver struggled to park the beast at the curb.
There’s not much to be said here about Playboy's promo bus that doesn’t spring instantly and obviously to mind. This “energy drink” thing is all the rage on campuses, and while students admit the drinks “taste like ass,” they’re using them as mock-amphetamines (sometimes in conjunction with real ones) and mixing them half-and-half with vodka, for everything from all-night study sessions to promotion of “social confidence."
The good news is you too can become an energy drink purveyor, with a little help from people like this. (My friend Crazy Larry is out of luck; somebody beat him to market.)
All I need is a name for my new line. What’ll it be? Churm Juice? Uncertain Fluids, From Oronte Churm? Oozin’ Churm?
