My Dear Whiskey, Let’s Be Naked

Galentine's treat yo-self, 14 February 2014.

Galentine’s treat yo-self, 14 February 2014.

The obligatory weeping and gnashing of teeth to be all alone on Valentines, replaced by the crunge. Sick on hearts day? I intended to go out with some good ladies for fancy beers and perhaps some inappropriate heckling, but alas some sort of alien has taken my body as host and all I can do is hope that whiskey will be my lover/savior/preacher/teacher, or at least crutch. I’m spending Valentine’s Day with this dude, he is a warrior and he brings to me dying flowers and a special message. Say it with dead flowers and a card to my love of whiskey.

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3 responses to “My Dear Whiskey, Let’s Be Naked

  1. I think you forgot the lyric “father figure” in there.
    If this makes you feel any better, my roses started to die three days after vday. So, they pretty much looked like that for the following two weeks I left them on the table. My stubbornness wouldn’t let me remove them earlier.

  2. You got my reference. At the bread party there were a few of us singing that song to bum others out. On another note, those flowers continue to wilt in the same spot three weeks later.

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