Reyka vodka, thou art the elixir of my soul. How could something elevate such a vagabond aesthete to such heights sublime? Ah! Reyka vodka, you quench my thirst. You are pure. You are a wonder. Reyka vodka, thou art my glacial lover.
It is off to Iceland; let's go by boat rocking drunkenly. Reyka vodka shall make us adventurous rogues, the heroes of the world, and we shall shall sail past the arctic circle but feel flames within our hearts. There can be no other country. Sweden is too plain; Russia is too large. Iceland is a country that makes you a man. Let's drink Reyka vodka and go berserkergang.
How can one not love the feeling of being tight? On Reyka being tight. When I am drunk, I am a buffoon; when sober, I am a bore. But when I am tight, ah! Reyka vodka true, I am a wonder to behold. Gone are the inhibitions. I am an animal inspired. I am unstoppable. I am one hell of a piece of ass and don't mind if you stare.
Come back and we shall go nude beneath the moonlight. I still have half a bottle by the salt lamp by the door. Dear Reyka vodka, please meet our new lover. Her name is unspoken. Let's keep it that way. Have a sip of my sensual landscape. My body is volcanic; come explore my lake Mývatn. Pet my devil duck and explore my darkened heart.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
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