ThinkaThought

It was by coincidence that my drink ended up pink… I couldnt help getting a tad feisty. The bar man was out of Martin Bianco. I mean wtf?…How can one drink vodka martini without martini.. my night was ruined.. seriously… Im not over dramatising the point here… No alcohol in Gozo on a Friday night is a dangerous mix for me. I may as well had stayed at home. After making a couple of weird faces at the barman… he suggested I give the martini rosso a go.. I ponder a bit knowing that the rosso is much sweeter and doesnt have that sharp cutty taste like the bianco…. but in order of not being called a martini racist I decided to give it a go. He served me a pink drink… there I was standing at the bar in my skinny jeans, tshirt and pink drink in hand – had I had a large handbag and a dog in it I would have been something not too far off from Paris hilton (except Im not blonde, dumb or rich) Ok – forget that reference point. Anyway back to my story. So the pink martini rosso’s were ok and as the night went on they just kept on coming…. until one fine glass came in front of me with a pink straw and a pink flamingo on it. In all fairness it looked kinda pretty.. sitting there between the pink illuminated ice cubes  just hanging out over the lip of my glass. Totally amused with my flamingo i picked it up twirlled it around put it back in my glass and then all of a sudden my flamingo had two heads. Now in most cases  I hold my liquer well so I knew that I wasnt drunk, but how the hell did my flamingo get two heads.?  It seemed that my flamingo had gotten drunk not me.. it decided to go for a dip in my drink.. as its frilly puffed body dipped into my drink, it slowly started to disintegrate; its body becoming less fluffy by the minute. Had my flamingo died or had I killed it? As I pulled my the flamingo out of my glass saving it from a sad drowing death.. I placed it on the table… saturated to the core it built its grave on the table.. surround by bunnies and unnies ( will explain this later) Along came the next glass with another beautiful flamingo in it… a few minutes later another one… I was being invaded by flamingos and so grew my hate for their pink fluffy gayness. As each and every one of them slowly died in my martini glass… i became happier. I decided that killing the flamingos was actually more fun that watching them float around in my glass. So I got creative. Now I was letting them drown and would compliment the torture by stabbing them with my stileto before putting them in the bunny and unny graveyard. It made my night and btw I hate flamingos and to be more specific pink drinks.