|My God! In twenty four hours I'll be married to a walrus!|
The following story takes place over three days.
- Our washing machine broke down, nothing surprising about that since the landlord believes firmly in the "buy them cheap and clapped out and then replace them with another one that isn't as clapped out" method. I mentioned to the Cosmic Cowboy  that we could use it to make some bathtub gin, except of course it would be washing machine gin ha ha.
- Sometimes I want the mutant ability to erase the last 15 seconds because he looked at me and his eyes awakened with alcoholic anticipation  and nonchalantly, for him at least, asked what you need.
"Potatoes and some yeast" I hazard a guess "it's so easy to make alcohol I don't know why everyone isn't doing it" 
- Actually I do know why everyone isn't doing it its because while it's easy to make alcohol it's hard to make the damn stuff good enough for people to drink
- I was driving away when I passed Cosmic returning to the house. Slung over his shoulder was slung a large sack of potatoes and a happy look on his face. Now while I don't want to jump to conclusions I was pretty certain that he hadn't suddenly become the president of the Petone Potato Fetishists Society.
- I checked this morning and the broken machine has mysteriously teleported behind his homemade fence. he hasn't put anything inside, yet.
- Eventually the landlord is going to come around looking for his washing machine.
- I've got ten bucks that says he doesn't bother to clean out the machine before dumping everything in.
- I've got twenty bucks that says he'll be lucky if he ends up with potato soup.
- If he tries to set up a still in his room I am going to be solid gone so fast.
- Whom I talked about back in the H post
- not really, I was just on an alliteration roll
- I'm pretty sure that sugar comes into it as well it's been far to long since I tried to ferment anything.