Tuesday, December 29, 2009

From a former alcoholic, why is there so much alcohol in Muscat?

I don't understand why alcohol is available in Oman at all, really, I don't.

Please, old aquaintances, forgive me for the bad influence I might have been in the past, thinking myself the perfect party girl.

But M to me says "I don't see why you have a problem with eating fish sticks battered in beer... You used to be quite the lush."

OPNO (that's me): "doesn't that say something about even a little bit of alcohol?"

M: "That Muslim man thinks it's okay to eat here."

In full dishdasha I might add. At least he isn't a hypocrite about his actions, trying to pretend to be a tourist.

OPNO: "Um, he's drinking a flagon of beer. I don't think he's the example to go by."

M: "You've become an extremeist."

You’re hand was wrapped
around the bottle
You’re arm wrapped around her waist
You were running that full throttle
Big smile upon your face
You were the life of the party
But it was only in your mind
I hate to be the one to tell you
You didn’t have a good time

Well I bet you don’t remember
Knelling in that bathroom stall
Praying for salvation
And cursing alcohol
And you went right back to drinking
Like everything was fine
But let’s be honest with each other
You didn’t have a good time

So take a good hard look in the mirror
And drink that image down
I’m truth that you can’t run from
I’m the conscience you can’t drown
And the happiness you want so bad
You ain’t gonna find
Until you start believing
You didn’t have a good time

When you woke up this morning
I guess you just assumed
That you got something out of
The empty bottles in this room
There ain’t an angel that can save you
When you’re listening to the wine
And the demons want to tell you
You didn’t have a good time


Somebody had to tell you
You didn’t have a good time

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