drink to me drink to my health

An individual may or may not be as impressive as he at first appears.    That’s as true of places and things too.    Of course at the same time nothing makes me so nauseous as liberalism’s who-am-I-to-judge rule.    I can’t really think of any specific significant set of circumstances over the course of my lifetime where I erred about something based on its appearance, though I know that it has often happened.    It has happened with alcohol though.    Sometimes I see a drink that strikes me sour-apple-martini-with-asparagus-foam-1-3as being quite exceptional of appearance and of course, not being terribly knowledgeable about alcohol-it appears they don’t call it spirits for nothing-I make quite an error in judgment.   Never having been either a frequent or a well-informed imbiber, I recognize quite well the unfortunate fact that it doesn’t pay for me to be too brave.    I virtually always base my decisions about what to drink on appearance and taste.    Often, to my chagrin, I end up drinking something that has quite a nasty impact upon me.   It’s hit and miss.    I never know exactly which drink will send me into flights of pain.    Sometimes something very slight will make me sick and sometimes something very hard will give me no trouble.

A few weeks ago I drank a gin martini, with an olive, on an empty stomach.    It most certainly seemed quite harmless.    I drank exceptionally slowly and ate virtually immediately after having first gotten the drink.    It gave me quite an extremely nasty headache though.     At other times I’ve drunk the same kind of thing and gotten into absolutely no trouble whatsoever.    It doesn’t pay to deal with drinking by way of appearance.   It doesn’t help to go by precedent either.      Alcohol is like life in general.   Many may say it’s like women.    The most outwardly appealing drink isn’t necessarily the nicest.    Prior experience under the same circumstances doesn’t necessarily help either.









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