DRUNKThe Drunkard
Liquor burns the throat. No choice but to get hammered.
人格描述
Why do you walk like you're on a ship in a storm? Why are your emotions always dialed to eleven? Why is everything you see in double? Because what flows through your veins isn't blood -- it's premium bourbon! It's top-shelf tequila! It's Fireball! It's that bottle of whiskey you swore you'd save for a special occasion but opened on a Tuesday! Oh, glorious booze! Every drop is burning! Every drop is electric! Sadness! Joy! Rage! Have you gotten used to pouring vodka into your water bottle and sipping it like it's just plain water? How magnificent, alcohol! It makes you the life of the dinner party and then the philosopher hugging the toilet at 2 AM. It makes you feel like a nightclub poet, the undying flame at the center of the universe -- until 10 AM the next morning, when your head feels like a cracked walnut, there's something crusty on your chin, and your soul is curled up in the corner. You finally understand: last night's trash-talking, table-slapping legend has become... a drunkard.
