Thursday, September 18, 2008


Whiskey. Or, Whisky.
I do hate the stuff.
Recently someone paid me in it for some work and I thanked them without meaning it.
On the label it said things like 'years old' and 'malt' and '18' and 'single' and a other words only Highlanders can or want to pronounce.
It made me think of all the things I like which could have been brought with the money it probably cost.
I'm a single man.
I run out of things.
Usually food, sometimes alcohol.
And on one such desperate occasion, tonight, I opened the bottle.
I'd also run out of things to put with it and I was needy, so I challenged it head on.

I'll tell you what, someone could make some money out of this stuff.

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