THE DRUNKEN ELK

We do what we must to keep life interesting.

A typical night out on the forest, I was lurking lazily in the cliché sunset searching for my delicious autumn treat: apples. This fruit is nice and mature after summer, with a noble taste of rot and an appropriate smell of shit not quite appreciated by the masses.

I had my dose of apples, and one thing led to another, one unstable hoof in front of the other. I ended up alone and bitter, stuck at an afterparty the shape of an asshole. I was rather drunk, but instinct convinced me there was even more booze to be consumed at this sorrowful sight. Nobody else was there to do the job, so I took the offer. ”Säkert,” I thought. ”Skål!”

I did feel the subsrcibed stomach ache accurately arriving and telling me to get out, but I couldn't really move. Bored,  I OD'd. I climbed even higher into the party venue, an ancient apple tree that reached the sky.

I passed out with some random stick tickling my private parts and woke up with my raisin eyes all dried up and my sweaty body shaking like a bad egg dough still in the mixer. I honestly thought I'd climbed a long way last night, but now find myself almost on the ground. I am stuck, but not in the sky; in something that only just qualifies as a bush. With Beethoven's Sonata No. 8 playing repeatedly in my sore head, I am currently in the process of welcoming the familiar cocktail of sticky post-nutrition making its way, with pressure, out of my battered figure.

Still, it was fun.

Please also read the true story of the drunken Swedish elk. 

NONSENSES

The introduction of an article is a tool,
a means of helping the reader form a general idea 

and attitude towards the body text.

Waking up, I check the time to see if I am still tired. I've slept for eight hours. I am ready to rise, says the clock.


I feel cold, so I check the thermometer to see if I really am.

I feel a bit sick, so I take my temperature to find out if I am imagining it.

I am hungry; I cook some eggs and set the timer to five minutes. The eggs do not taste normal, so I check the date on the box to see if they actually taste bad. Apparently they do not.

I watch a film. I am not sure what to think, so I read reviews online to form my opinion.

I buy tickets to a concert, where I will observe others' reactions to decide whether I like it or not.

I listen to some music. It seems too loud. I check the settings on the speakers. It is not.

I weigh myself. I feel good, but the scale tells me I am too big.

It is snowing horizontally, but I have to take the car to the supermarket. I cannot see, but I drive at 120 km per hour since that is the speed limit.

My GPS tells me to take a left turn ”now”. I feel like I should go in the other direction, but I turn, nevertheless, and get lost.

I drive around looking for familiar corners, but soon the light on my petrol gauge tells me I cannot drive for long.

I leave my car and come across an enchanting landscape. I pick up my camera and concentrate on taking a photo of the view. This way I will know later on in life that I was there, then.

I need to cross the street. There is not a single car anywhere, but I only trust the traffic lights and wait for green.

I take the train. When it stops, the sign at the station says Amsterdam, but the announcement says Rotterdam.