Musing upon the history of my tribe, I bump against the same bump again and again throughout the years: that bump of the tea drinking slaves of conformity conspiring to make free men stop drinking to excess. Well, fuck you. Fuck you, your horse and the fleas in your mullet. The drinking man, while handicapped by his inebriation, will always triumph over the teetotallers of this world. Ask Hitler. His teetotaling arse got flipped and fried my my vodka brother uncle Joe. Viva la whisky, Viva la bier. Viva la puta!
