Purveyor of Bollocks to the Crowned Heads of Europe
Tuesday, 6 June 2017
In vino veritas... again
It's all enough to turn you to drink, eh? So here I turn.
Every now and then, aliens try to contact me with an important message.
The other night I looked down at the frothy head on my pint of beer and saw the alien characters written on the edge of the glass, which you can clearly see in the above photo. The trouble is that I don't know what they mean.
This is not the first time that other world beings have tried to communicate with me. Many years ago when I used to take LSD, I went down to the weir of our river and stared at the frothy scum which was being churned up by the water rushing over the edge.
As the thick blanket of foam drifted downwards and away from its source, it began to thin out and disintegrate. To my amazement, each piece of froth formed a letter of the alphabet of around 5 inches in height, and all the letters floated randomly about like a bowl of alphabet soup.
I spent about an hour waiting for the letters to form a coherent sentence so I could understand the alien message, but the froth disappeared or floated out of sight before they did.
At least I stood a chance with the river alphabet, but even though the beer froth forms complete sentences just waiting for me to read, I can make no sense out of them at all.