by Guy Armstrong (Author)

... I was balancing a vodka, a whiskey, and a wine in one hand, three beers in the other, and was pouring some Peruvian corn port shots out along the dash. This was foolish because I needed at least two hands free to make horrendous finger gestures, and another to throw empties into the yards I was racing through on my way home...

... the next day police found me at an equality rally for signs. I'd only had eleventy-threenty-six twelvety twelve twelve seventy-five-hundredy-twelve eight eight ninety thirteenty-one beers, and I wasn't even drunk. I had six beers in my chest pocket of my T-shirt...

My name's Guy and hi. This is a tale of a few of my lives in the old student days. With little gnomes in jelly. And slamming whirlwinding metal gigs...

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