Sitting here getting very, very drunk. It's 2am and I don't give a fuk. It's one of those "No matter how much I do it still isn't enough" kind of days. Since I'm a cyclothymic, you can make your own decision whether I'm having a depressive episode or I'm just pissed to hell off. I couldn't tell ya, myself. But it's okay. I've got bourbon, and I've got a new rifle, and I've got a Harley, and I've got money in the bank. I'm just not particularly happy at the moment. Four out of five ain't bad.
Don't worry, I'm not considering doing myself any harm, other than beating up on my liver. Time for a refill.