Further Adventures In Liquid Decadence
In a slaphappy fit of (over)indulgence you may have found yourself asking your partner, “Well, why don’t we just open this other bottle of wine?” and she may have replied, “Yeah, lets!” and so you went ahead and did. Nothing really wrong with that, you meathead- you’re responsible drinkers and the last time you went for the second bottle of wine was on your honeymoon in Italy, where the spirit of Bacchus is eternally ripe, so why the hell not? You unbelievable blockhead! And so, when you went to sleep and noticed that the room was doing queasy pirouettes (we were told back in our college days that placing your feet on the floor can mitigate this, though we fell asleep before such measures were necessary) you may have thought, “Oh, I’m going to pay for this,” but you didn’t, you boob, not that there was anything you could have done by then anyway. And then there’s morning. Your body might have felt terribly unfortunate- brackish, in fact. You may have felt drywalled. You might have just stayed in bed until noon, the consequence of your ample sousing.