The Beer Drinker Drinker

It took five hundred glasses of beer for Graham Jones to finish the book that he had been working on. He wrote something in his language to the pre-sympathetic readers, I felt the alcoholic potations he was imbibing percolating through the pages, he drank out the next glass, and when the next page came, he was still alcoholized. I shook my head, “No,” the writing cannot be this bad sober, to kill the dipsomaniacal haze that drenched I don’t know what, so I went through to the next paragraph, trying to forget the alcoholic stupor, my eyebrows knitting together in bemusement, I want it to be over, every time I put my nose in the book, it torches my nasal passages with the impenetrable alcohol-fog. In addition, the implacable turbidity of the prose that overtakes me makes me want to vomit, I shrink back, a healing recoil from the stench of beer. It is the most irritatingly mindless book I have ever waded through, like wading through a river of fermented barley, it was like I was trapped in the bubbling mire and wanted to escape from this scriptorial aberration. The Beer Drinker Drinker.

Dr. Joseph Suglia

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