Home alone, feeling reflective or otherwise emotionally riled for no real reason, and in possession of a lot of Jack Daniels. Four bottles, in fact. Obviously I’m only going to have like two glasses; it’s just interesting that I have so much in the house at the moment. Good to know it’s there, I guess – though I will have to pick a different alcohol when I eventually go to the supermarket to do my “will I still get ID’d now that I’m thirty?” test.

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