It was a Sunday night like any other. A friend and I imbibed some exclusive "Le vin de Datch", discussed literary theory, perhaps smoked some pot, they left, and I watched some cartoons.
The next morning I awoke with a very sore throat. It got worse through the day. And the next. On Tuesday night at 3am, despite a mighty sleep cocktail, I woke up from the pain and had difficulty breathing.
So for the first time in my 40 years I went to an emergency clinic. It's fun to do new things. They looked at me, listened to my squeaks, and felt my neck. They shrugged, then gave me steroids for the swelling and a kick out the door.
That helped. Feeling better the next day I celebrated good health with a friend by imbibing some exclusive "Le vin de Datch".
Le vin de Datch
is a special batch
if you'll allow the sentiment.
But the last of the batch
of Le vin de Datch
contained a bit of sediment.
And that's the catch
if you be a Datch
for apparently I'm fucking allergic to that shit in my own goddamn wine.
is a special batch
if you'll allow the sentiment.
But the last of the batch
of Le vin de Datch
contained a bit of sediment.
And that's the catch
if you be a Datch
for apparently I'm fucking allergic to that shit in my own goddamn wine.
