An Extract/Rant from 'Pro sipped. i.' by Jack Burston

“I mean, true that, but is it ‘understandable’ when I’ve decided to laters things with such ease? And the meaningless debt that I’m piling is just that: piling, above and in front of my personally favoured style between the corn field and the meadow. In fairness that meadow owns every single road and I’m not being pastoral and I’m not trying to pasteurise my rural milk in to a drinkable in school commodity, but it should be reasonably soft to drink and it shouldn’t fall on my cornflakes like cream unless I want it to. And if I pile up several ounces of brown sugar with a layer of the white above the cereal and let it tumble in to the milk after it’s decided whether it wants to stay on the flakes, should I start cleaning up my aorta with a pipe cleaner. Should I be flexing my heart more? I mean heart’s a tune and it beats with regularity and gives us an intolerably instinctive sense of rhythm but it’s a drastic act when you start weight lifting with it.”