One beer-soaked night in Bloomington, c. 1999 or 2000, the Captain and I collaborated on this snippet of a country song:
Give me half a chance
And I'll drink myself to death
Ever since she left
You can smell her on my breath
I long to sway across the floor,
but bottles just can't dance
It ain't just infatuation,
it's a hundred-proof romance
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Please note: My policy at Bramble Tamble is to not use real names for private citizens. I hope you will adhere to this policy; hell, it's my only rule here. (But you can use your own real name if you'd like. Cause I'm magnanimous like that.)