Pot. Piss. Meth. Now I lay my head down to sleep.
First of all I got my vodkas mixed with sweet pink stuff of varying descriptions. After I mentioned it, read complained, I got them mixed with lemon, lime and bitters mixer. I think they thought I was objecting to the gay colour. Sheesh! I was objecting to bad taste! I may well scream!
A little ice, a wedge of lime, or lemon, preferably lime, vodka and tonic water, don't drown it. How hard can it be, I ask you?
Kane's got an ulcer, so I haven't seen him. He sounded funny on the phone, could hardly talk. Harrumph! Just when I'm, shall we say, primed for a... um... er... cuddle. Grrr!
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