ratsonjulia

ah, whiskey.

whiskey can, properly used, be a wonderful thing--a social lubricant without peer, an amber nectar that opens the channels of communication between folks that might not otherwise talk in such a lovely way.

sadly this is not often, for me, the case.

Mark Twain, a man whom I revere as a prophet of sorts has written, " Moderation in all things. Except whiskey. Too much whiskey is just right."

anyway, the other night a friend bought me a shot of whiskey at a bar.

I thought that rather friendly & jolly & downed it in the spirit in which I believed it was intended.

as my memory has it, I went home shortly afterwards.

my memory, it appears, is faulty in this regard, as stories have been coming my way in that there were several shots of whiskey consumed by self.

also tequila. also jagermeister.

one of my greatest fears--or worries--or what-have-you, is that I turned obnoxious--but I've been assured by friends present that I did not.

but that I did, yea, verily, vomit upon the bar.

urg.

try as I might, I can't seem to rummage up memory betond that first shot. there was the shot--& then I was home--& apparently my body had quite the adventure in betwixt.

so. kids. whiskey. bad. right? right.