What?
Making drinks in a bar is like, “doing it,” with a beautiful woman?
Making drinks at home is “onanism”?
Have I gone crazy? Is this my mid-life crisis? Could I use a bigger cliché?
After reading that last post certain persons in the house were about ready to call the exorcist, fearing I had been possessed by the ghost of Norman Mailer or Anthony Burgess.
Well, there you go. That’s certainly Crazylandia.
Anyway, you’re up to date, I’m up to date.
Enough of this blogging as therapy.
I’ve got shopping to do. Dinner and orgeat to make.
I might not even write about it.
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