I confess ignorance on wine. But when I tasted my first slug in the evening, I no longer care about ignorance and just binge instead on my regular dose of this so-called "nectar of inspiration" (cripes that phrase, how did that come to my head?). Yet, crap or not, this remains a real nice substitute when your brain and the people around fail you. Yes, that Lord Byron kind of thing. And right, I just had my deep second shot in a row, and the darkness is slowly creeping inside my room, the water is burning down my throat and it feels damn good. This booze, especially this particular bottle of booze, which was a leftover of my niece’s birthday last weekend, is a great consolation that I look forward to everyday, that is, after a whole day’s toil, when the brain had its share of drain, solving me another day of desolation.
I cannot but thanks God, and thanks to inspiration-filled waters too, which makes a sure argument of the Deity’s existence. But Deist or no, I sure is glad for having such kind of sweet drink to keep me happy and sweet enough reason to feign contentment to pass another day.
So here you good folks you! I’ll drink this drink for you!