Oooh you're a naughty mess

i have to get drunk before the day begins. easy-e

f'n'n': 'k'; ekootin: blackfoot roll, mr scruff; drinkin': cyder with ice, plenty of that good ice/ jus' tekken foyst sip d'joo-or, hoping sustained drinking will ward off my crippling h'over/ to the park alba-d up yester, where at drank much merrydown cider (a bargain: 7.5%, £1.99/ltr and proper sussex cider, no tramp elixir merrydown)/ stayed most of the day, watched the sun retreat and the grasses glow a rich gold before home, where at began the serious drinking, consisting mainly in k cider and cheap table rouge'/ stayed up till 0200 watching annoying music videos and footage of bukowski enacting his juvenile routines/ the mistake i made was pouring the remainder of all my drinks in to a can of beer that'd been open 24hrs or so (maybe 36), thus gifting myself 650mls of pure excellence/ when i woke this fine morn felt a tad off kilter but have managed to redress the balance somewhat with coffee, food and now cider/ remarkably my eyes are sparking clear/ i expect that because the damage has showed so little i'll go to bed one night looking 28 and wake up actually 50/ go figure, as the saying is/