About the morning after the night before…
It’s ghostly blue,
Revealing, faded fun,
And liquor quaffed, consumed,
By me and you.
(Photo – Eli Woodbine, Canada, 2017)
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eliwoodbine 
Ah yes. I remember those. They were a kind of trophy…
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Proof of ones ability to socialise!
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Or that you got into a cool club. 🙂
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Very true! Look at me! Look at me! I’m cool.. I’m COOL.. Do you believe me?
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I suspected but now I’m convinced.
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All hail the stamp of cool!
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Not that I ever needed such a stamp. My coolness is unassailable.
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The stamp somehow also brands you as a sheep.
Therein ensuring you are like everyone else, and ultimately – uncool.
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I just remember how cool it was to be suddenly old enough to get into a 21 bar (I don’t know if Canada has a drinking age). I remember the first couple times I had a stamp I felt grown up. No cooler, though. It’s impossible to add anything to my my infinite coolness.
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Hahaha. I grew up in London, England. 18 was the drinking age. That bar stamp was like a battle scar, we wore it with pride.
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Yep. 🙂 “Oh! You had beer!”
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…. Nope. I had VODKA!
….. Oh really? How did it taste?
… Amazing!
(It didn’t)
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Oh yeah, vodka. My first experience with that well, let’s just say I was underage and hallucinated. Fortunately I was able to find my wallet and glasses in the park the next day… And fortunately I didn’t die. 🙂
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