I have a fear of becoming an alcoholic. So I don’t drink.
Give a mouse a cookie though…
Shit. I’m so mad right now, for no definite reason. I’m not as nice as I used to be and I swear a lot more and it’s nooo bueno.
Gah, I never listen to my own bad advice. I have the attention span of a feather falling off of a bird flying a hundred feet in the air. This feather would ideally like to make it to the ground as soon as possible. It lacks the discipline of a bird shit. That shit knows exactly where it’s going, and although the wind may carry it a little, it’s path is direct. The feather zigs and it zags and it catches a thermal and twirls about and la dee da dee da… .. .. . ..I mean. Right. I know. Hahahahahahahahahahaha.
“It’s” is the contraction for it is. “Its” is the possessive. Cool story though, bro. :D
