I'm pretty sure that beer and I need to break up. Yes, we have been down some great roads together, and beer has made me one hell of a witty and charismatic woman at times, but lately beer has been abusive and spiteful to me.
I have always been aware of its rioting ways toward my guts and how often it makes me regret spending the night with it, but my hands have always coddled it in whatever vessel it was brought to me in.
I love to swill, but lately beer has been battering my ass, and not in a way I like. Hops hurt, barley bashes around, and malt mauls my poor ring so much that I fear the flora in my guts have been extinct since the my last solid excrement three days ago.
The pain of a crappy liquishit is not worth the time and effort. And with this note, I toss a wet, yellow wad of toilet paper into the wind in effigy.
I love you, beer. Goodbye.
Asdf@elleinad.ca