When we're out for the evening, we tend to stick to red wine.
But we'd had enough to be susceptible to the offer of trying a cocktail. Preferring sapid to sweet, I raised the glass to my lips and my nose told me I wasn't going to like it. Then my throat told me otherwise. 'Mellifluous' pretty much summed it up.
Next morning, Mrs.D. asked wtf (well, she didn't actually say that) it was that we'd drunk. "Was it a Harvey Headbanger?" she enquired groggily, "because there's someone inside my head, using a lump-hammer to escape".
I may have something different to request at
Uborka's Friday party, cos I lurved it.
# posted by Mr.D. @ 9:07 AM
Drinking and Driving (but clearly not simultaneously)
