Good grief, why is this thread so dead? This makes me sad.
Anyway, a short while ago I was lying on my bed (well, mattress) feeling profoundly terrible and pondering the extreme unlikeness of things ever getting better. Then, all of a sudden, a thought occurred to me! Clearly, all I needed to cheer me up was a wee bit o' comfort. Southern Comfort, to be exact. I would just make the trip across the road to the nearest liquor store (but a short walk, but still a gruelling one due to the severe anxiety caused by the amount of traffic everywhere), spend some of my hard-bludged money whilst being sure to leave myself enough for rent, bills, and a bit of buffer room for anything else that might come up, and acquire myself a bottle of the good stuff.
I've been reunited with my one true love.
Even before I cracked open her bottle, it just felt so...
right having her by my side once more. The smile in that photo wasn't even forced.
And then I took a swig. Ahh. Lovely, just lovely. Oh my dear, I had forgotten the thrill of your touch, gentle but firm, relaxed yet flirtatious.
Why does the glassy caress of a bottle of reasonably affordable whiskey awaken such odd emotions within me?
I'm not sure, but I intend to get to the bottom of it. Or at least to the bottom of this bottle... cheers, gang!
* Yoink takes a second swig.