Swan Fungus reader Stephen, you are the apple of my eye. Do you know why (oh man, I’m a veritable rhyming dictionary of rhymes!)? Because you graciously donated twenty-five dollars and change to my website, and I turned around and drove to the beer mart so that I might literally drink your money out of existence! Isn’t that just the coolest? Well, I think so. For those of you who have never read this website before, let me lay it on the line for you. Whenever a kind soul donates funds to this here website of mine, I take the money and buy liquor. Then I write about whatever exploits I experience while drunk. Tonigh I’m going to play a game where Nicci (a natural artist) begins a drawing and I finish it. Hopefully as I grow more inebriated the drawings will become more and more interesting. They might even expose some deeply hidden, deeply personal truths that I am normally far too uptight to confront. Or, I might just pass out and forget all about my objective. The point is, if you have never donated any money to this website, now is the time for you to do so. Every donor receives a personalized “Thank You” note and care package. Some of them have included pieces of rare music memorabilia, found objects, and handwritten notes filled with sexual obscenities! Plus, for every donation you make, you’ll also have your own blog entry devoted to how I got drunk on your donation. Sounds awesome, right? Well, what are you waiting for? Donate!

The first beer of the evening was Stone Russian Imperial Stout, Spring 2008 batch. I’ve had each incarnation of this brew since 2005. This year’s edition was not the best, but the chocolate-y goodness definitely left little to be desired. Nicci drew three random sketches on a piece of notebook paper. She left me with the task of completing them. I turned an “L” shape and “Z” shape into a sleeping guy snoring next to a glass-half-filled with water. I turned a weird “Y” shape into a table corner with a chair and a plate of banana, cherry and apple. I turned a weird squiggle into a dude in a top-hat smoking with violent contrails extending from his mouth and cigarette.

The second beer of the evening was Samichlaus Bier, “one of the rarest beers in the world,” which is a 14.6% ABV malt liquor. The brew’s label claims it is “the world’s most extraordinary beer,” and I have a hard time disputing that. I do not possess Earth’s most impressive palate, but I’m quite sure this one tasted like a candy necklace (or bracelet, if that’s your thing) left to drown in a glass of rubbing alcohol. I started to get nauseous after a while. As you can see, the second drawing given to me by Nicci began as a series of wave-shaped lines and a few little “L” shapes. I turned it into something way more interesting. Two arch shapes and a “Z” were transformed into a gross looking chick with a giant breast and a weak ass. A narrow S shape running perpendicular to a horizon line became another chick with two big breasts and no arms or legs. A series of small arcs and angles became an Asian man saying, “Ah so!” because that’s what I imagine all Asian men say.

The final beer of the evening was something called Ola Dubh, a Scottish beer that is aged for 12, 16, or 30 years in whisky barrels. One would imagine this would be the strongest beer I consumed tonight, but it was actually the weakest. That said, it was also the most flavorful. The Old Dubh 12 was delicious. As it sat out longer (I couldn’t chug it, it was too flavorful and weird sand complex) it became more “wood-y” in taste, and I started to grow disinterested in the brew. OF course, I was already very buzzed (maybe even drunk), and I turned another series of simple drawings into very complex structures. A vertical line with four dots became an exhaling fish with a dick. A kidney/stomache shape was transformed into a much larger fish (or an eel) with a much larger (spitting!) dick. Something that looked like “I U 9″ became a weird musical notation mixed with a bolt of lightning. It’s hard for me to determine what exactly I drew.

Lastly, Nicci drew half a human face. It looked like this:

And here is what it looked like when I was finished adjusting it:

See, I’m an artist. A true artist. Not one of those MTV2 or MTVu artists. I’m the real deal. I’m like Jackson Polyp or The Litter or something. I’m the “holy grail” of artists. You know what I mean? Holy-fucking-grail, dudes.

Do Make Say Think – The Whole Story Of Glory
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