I'm not against vodka - they just asked us. They put out some story about us entertaining international celebrities with vodka, which of course wasn't true.
Related quotes
Faith In Vodka Tears
'those vodka weeping
Russians
those vodka weeping
Russians
crying vodka tears'
lost loss of faith
loss of faith in communism
lost loss of faith
loss of faith in orthodox religion
lost loss of faith
loss of faith in devastated souls
will Russian soul thaw regenerate?
socialist history of faith
under Lenin Stalin Communism
under suppressed orthodox religion
devastated souls did not regenerate...
vodka soothed Russian soul
crying vodka tears
defensive history of faith
under aggressive invasion bestial Nazism
vodka seemed to fire the Russian soul
crying vodka tears
without faith they cry vodka tears
with faith they cry vodka tears
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Crying Vodka Tears
those vodka weeping
Russians
those vodka weeping
Russians
crying vodka tears
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Faith Outlawed Political Oppression
enduring political oppression
without resurrection fibre faith
this then was thorny problem
splinter within pastoral Russian
psyche splinter within rustic mind
an issue not with vodka drunk blind
but appeasement flooded loss of faith
drowned as testament escapism time
that was the point under Communism
during war devastating invasion Nazism
vodka seemed to be fluid Russian soul
without faith cry liquid vodka tears
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Here and now
Right here and now.
All I want to dod is cry!
Here and now I want to die
Here and now I swallow the pills.
Drowned with the vodka.
Soon right here and now.
I will be dead by morning.
Cold and stiff In my bed.
Atleast I can be at peace.
No more of lifes troubles to face.
For the pain I felt I just couldnt brace.
Right here and now.
I am dying.
I took the plunge.
I did what I thought was best.
I swallowed the pills.
Drowned with vodka.
Please dont save me
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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There was a chap from South Africa
who drank way too much liquor
when asked by his wife -
to end his strife-
he merely sighed and promptly switched to vodka.
quote by by Otido Omukuba
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Uncleaned Sink
She loved Bach and listened
To him whenever she had the
Chance and while sitting listening
She gazed at her Picasso prints
And sipped the cola she mixed
With vodka and remembered
Ricans trying to make it with her
But she not interested in that
Side of being with him not wanting
To see the all too human side not
Wishing to see that aspect which
Made him all so much like everybody
Else just wanted that part of him
Which sat and listened to Bach and
Gazed at the Picasso prints sipping
Vodka and cola which she hoped made
Him think of higher things than sex
Drugs or the uncleaned bathroom sink.
poem by Terry Collett
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Hooked On You
I had my lager and lime
And you had your vodka,
We were partners in crime!
Later the lager wasn't enough
And I got hooked on the stronger stuff.
I thought I was clever,
You thought I was tough,
Luckily nobody called my bluff!
Mutual admiration joined us like glue,
You were hooked on the vodka,
I was hooked on you,
You were my Bonnie, I tried to be Clyde,
Both of us flirted with suicide,
We liked to talk and we liked to think,
Our genius was confirmed by drink!
But the years went by and, bit by bit,
We drifted apart. I felt like sh*t!
The party was over. I was alone
And you hardly ever answered the phone.
I tried to hold on to the slippery past
But the illusion of love was vanishing fast,
And now the drink was taking its toll,
It had ruined my body and dulled my soul.
I tried all the methods of finding a cure,
But none of them worked - I was dead for sure!
Now I look back and I miss those days
We spent in a carefree alcoholic haze;
Can I face up to the ultimate truth?
The laughter has gone and we've lost our youth,
But let me toast you just one more time,
My angel of love and partner in crime!
Just one more drink before the night,
Just one more fix to set the stars alight!
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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A Lust Story
the story of our meeting is quite a long one
i do not even know where to start it:
the mall, or the beach
or the lobby of this hotel by the sea
where you have seen my body
and i know
with the way you look at me
from the tip of my hair
to the tip of my toe
you desire
what i have
you think
i have so much to give you for the night where we can just be two
exploring the contours
and curves and islands of some hairs and rivers in our arms
and soft grasses on our bellies
hills on your breasts, plains on my chest
and i look at you too, i am fond of deep seated eyes that twinkle
like some tiny stars, chinky, and warm
i gaze at your face, shining gently like the moon of the night
over the cool marshes
the sound of geese subsiding finally
inside my heart
of course, your body too is one island filled with desire and bursting energy, like volleyball players under the sun
and i confess i like it
and want to taste it and even eat it,
like i have turned into one
cannibal or wanting to be one, at least on that first meeting
at the lobby of the hotel by the sea
(was it named Caprice?
or Escape or Hideaway?)
yes, the lobby of this hotel by the sea, and we decide to share
a room, get some drinks, you like the vodka, and you want me to want
the vodka and i take the vodka from your hand, and we all drink
the vodka, and we were carried by the vodka like hypnotized
kids by this magician
to the heavens,
we do what we can to give meaning to the meeting and the mating
and the loving (though we suspect this matter, takes time i suppose,
takes time, you tell me, this is just a matter of sharing bodies,
sort of)
that was nice, i like it, and you are telling me, your first time, and you
really like it too, sipping not spitting, lipping and licking,
and caressing hair, mostly hair, and running fingers on my loins,
night, dawn, dusk, early morning, where boats still dock
on the white sandy shore,
coconut trees, leaves no ripples of the wind
cigarette butts wet by lips
unwashed by the tide
then it is over, it ends at the lobby of the hotel by the sea, you wear
a bleached buri hat with a blue ribbon,
and thick sunglasses, and you are carrying a bag, checking out
talking to the billing section
while the van waits taking you to the airport
and me too, by the lobby of the hotel by the sea, and we part
i'll take the boat back home
we tell each other finally, not looking intently now
(what intent really? on diminishing interest after the sharing
of some natural resources)
take care.
(i do not even bother to say: till we meet again)
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spit, Sawdust and The Farcicle Spaghetti Western
Last night within the spit and sawdust of..
The White Horse...(public house)
Swinging tail
Whilst I chose to sail
Far too... close to the wind, smiling at.
Friend foe and bartenders
As I dived need er ly
Within the whit/ering beer goggles
Of vodka and whatever...
I mean after all... after the shit day we'd had
Lost a home gained a flat, lost said flat..
Crap...
Homeless in two weeks
Yet in sane day
Finding another flat
Not bad but drat...wasn't exactly the hovel of my dreams
So
I chose to swim in vodka
Heaven
Not a care in the world until
I noticed two fellas brawling out of the mens toilets
And it was as beautiful as a contemporary ballet...
One had a dark shaved head
So I was gone
Smack bang
In the middle
As on the way through
I thought it was my man
Getting pummeled and pounded
And I could hardly just stand and watch
Between two fiery charged up men
I stood as punches past over and round
My head
I do
Believe my fists flew too
As my right hand hurts now.
But it was good honest fun
And I was dragged off by my man
A bit of spit sawdust and blood is as old as religion...
So ill hang my head in shame and smile at the floor...
poem by Karen Sinclair
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We used to get published a lot. And there was this vodka advertisement... it embarrassed me a lot afterwards.
A word of kindness is better than a bottle of vodka.
The first [cup of vodka] goes as a stake, the second as a falcon, and the third as a little bird.
An icon for the mind is like raw vodka for the stomach.
Vodka is tasteless going down, but it is memorable coming up.
quote by Garrison Keillor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Purple Lady
A welcome Christmas break.
Half a week off the turps.
Time for wine, whiskey, gin,
vodka, sambuca, ouzo and peach schnapps.
Or peach schnapps vodka ouzo combinations.
But what is the exact formula
for Helen’s secret recipe?
A really well mixed purple lady?
Sixty percent meths
to forty percent
straight orange juice.
Or meths seventy thirty
to get really spacy
before getting drunk.
Helen said getting back
on the meths
is like
‘holding hands
with a long lost lover’.
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
Turps and Meths – both are colloquial New Zealand kiwi
terms for methylated spirits.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The relationship between a Russian and a bottle of vodka is almost mystical.
quote by Richard Owen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If vodka, tar and sauna don't help, the disease leads to death.
Money, like vodka, turns a person into an eccentric.
quote by Anton Chekhov
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Suddenly discovering
There's vodka in the house,
Thank God for that!
haiku by John Thorkild Ellison
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