Your start out in the airport on a trip home from Vegas. Just a bloody mary. And maybe a beer. To help ease the pain of real life and the extra beer or six from the night before at the blackjack table.
Then you get home and Tiger Woods is on, so you definitely need a beer or two to celebrate his return. And holy shit that putt on the 17th? That alone calls for a celebratory drink.
You’re sliding now. Sliding downhill fast. You can probably still stop it. Just pause and don’t have the glass of wine. But what the hell. Into the drink you go.
I hate you Monday. Time to dry out.
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And He Says 
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