Enough of all this mushy introspective crap.
I’m going out.
I’m going to get drunk.
In fact, I’m going to get so drunk that my kids will be hungover until they hit puberty.
I’ve got a one size too small shirt, a couple Andrew Jacksons that are just begging to lose the cold war and get traded in for vodka and pant load of fuck fuck.
Cross your fingers for me, I may not come home alive.