I don’t like beer or wine.
Apparently, when I was a wee tot, I loved beer. My Dad used to tell me that he couldn’t open a beer without me showing up and telling him, “Want some.” I even have vague memories of liking the taste of beer.
Not anymore. Gack. It tastes like dirty underwear smells.
And I am soooooooo tired of people telling me that they have a wine that I will like.
No, you don’t. Because I. Don’t. Like. Wine.
I also don’t like any kind of booze straight.
What I like is a ridiculously sweet drink where the taste of the actual alcohol is well concealed.
So, I really don’t like booze at all.
What I like is the effect booze has on me.
I am a fun drunk.
I know alcohol is supposed to be a depressant. Not for me. It cheers me the fuck up.
What I don’t like are the day-after effects of booze.
My digestive system is “touchy” at the best of times. It is absolutely cantankerous after drinking.
I just got to the point where it wasn’t worth it.
I miss drunk me.
But I don’t miss puking, nauseous, cramping diarrhea me.