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Heehee, I don't need alcohol to end chattering away to myself.
New Year's was a pretty dry affair. I had two, maybe three Kopparberg during the four hour club and nothing at all before or after the club (club ended 1am, went to bed at 8am).
Drank much more than that on Friday and Saturday. Kopparberg, San Helier, Goldschlager, sambuca, jaegermeister, southern comfort, and that strange cocktail that Captain mixed (mmmm delicious cocktail).
And yet, not hungover or anything. Never hungover, never with a blurred memory.
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The noblest sentiment I have encountered and the most passionate political statement to stir my heart both belong to a fictional character. Why do we have no politicians as pure in their intent and determinedly joyous in their outlook as Arkady Bogdanov of Red Mars?
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