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a quare Norfolk swoddy

halfpint jack's fic journal

11 April 1980
External Services:
  • whiskey_johnny@livejournal.com
I must go down to the sea again
To the lonely sea and the sky.
I left my vest and socks there -
I wonder if they're dry?

--Spike Milligan

I needed somewhere to put my occasional lapses into fic. This is that place.

The Virtues of Whisky

"Being moderately taken,
it slows the age,
it cuts phlegm,
it lightens the mind,
it quickens the spirit,
it cures the dropsy,
it heals the strangulation,
it pounces the stone,
it repels gravel,
it pulls away ventositie,
it keeps and preserves the head from whirling,
the eyes from dazzling,
the tongue from lisping,
the mouth from snuffling,
the teeth from chattering,
the throat from rattling,
the weasan from stiffing,
the stomach from womblying,
the heart from swelling,
the belly from wincing,
the guts from rumbling,
the hands from shivering,
the sinews from shrinking,
the veins from crumpling,
the bones from aching,
the marrow from soaking,
and truly it is a sovereign liquor
if it be orderly taken."

-- Raphael Holinshed, 1577

(Whiskey made me pawn my clothes
Whiskey, Johnny!
And whiskey gave me this broken nose
Whiskey for my Johnny!)

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