tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2337056659803732067.post1209880175707241126..comments2023-07-04T11:54:22.638+01:00Comments on Chancing My Arm: cookie i think you're tameAndrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06170574944537866579noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2337056659803732067.post-23956291812058619912014-02-05T17:47:14.993+00:002014-02-05T17:47:14.993+00:00One thing I've learnt from the excesses of oth...One thing I've learnt from the excesses of others is that you can act in the most appalling, obnoxious, selfish ways and somehow get away with it because being fucked out of your head is considered a valid excuse, and, if no-one tells you exactly what you were like, you'll probably never realise - thereby bypassing the whole nasty guilt thing.Andrewhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06170574944537866579noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2337056659803732067.post-7010489742114616222014-02-03T20:35:29.686+00:002014-02-03T20:35:29.686+00:00I, strangely, never wonder what I've missed by...I, strangely, never wonder what I've missed by being chicken hearted in terms of booze (never on a work night now, except I work weekends again, so never on a Monday) or drugs (which I never chanced) but something similar to the themes of this post still gnaws at me. What a ramble.Radgehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08120550799595771510noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2337056659803732067.post-51144169032440487162014-02-03T16:16:27.342+00:002014-02-03T16:16:27.342+00:00I emerged whole and (relatively) sane from the 60s...I emerged whole and (relatively) sane from the 60s and 70s because a bad fairy cursed me at birth with common sense. Whenever some of the gang thought it would be great gas to go to Katmandu, or check out the drug scene at the 'Dilly, I would picture what my life might be, a few months or years down the road, if I went along, and then I would quietly go back to my humdrum existence, with a job and a regular wage. I'm alive, I don't smoke or do drugs any more, and I drink to moderation (most of the time), while a goodly proportion of the old gang are dead, or wrecked. Still, I often wonder what I missed by being chicken-hearted. Tessanoreply@blogger.com