Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Tonight has got me in the mood to drink myself into a mild coma. I’m losing on all fronts. The whiskey can’t change that, but it can change the way I feel about it. It isn’t the cure, but it will treat the symptoms. It can make a loss feel like a victory. It’s the consolation prize. It helps. It kills some of the sting. Whiskey is nice, though it’s not as nice as watching her naked ass walking in front of you, leading you across the room to the couch. Hips swinging like a boat listing side to side, without a stitch on her. I think, though, that even if I had her here, I might still be drinking whiskey tonight. Whiskey is good then, too. Then, it’s even better.