The start of alcoholism...

is when you attack the wine bottle with a knife because you can't find your corkscrew.









So... funny story. My friend LCA came over the other night to watch Dexter with my roommate and I because she's tragically behind on the series and we just happen to have all of the current seasons and episodes on the PS3. I always enjoy it when LCA comes over. She's a fellow wine drinker and her visits give me an opportunity to indulge the refinement I've cultured since leaving my little farm town in rural bum-fuck.

This particular evening, however, refinement gave over to redneck ingenuity as the corkscrew vanished in a well played game of hide n' seek ( Its still hiding despite my near desperate cries of Ollie Ollie Oxen-free ). Never one to be deterred, I grabbed something that I thought would do the job, which just happened to be a paring knife. A very. Sharp. Paring knife.

Channeling the very spirit of our entertainment that evening, I stabbed the wine bottle in the cork ( sounds dirty when you say it like that ) and drove the blade in; burying it to the handle. Twisting viciously, I worked the wound until the Cabernet spilled it's deep red goodness into our glasses. It was dirty work well worth the reward.

Suffice it to say, LCA's prime time education in the life of a serial killer has been fun.


-D

* The evil gleam in the puppies' eyes say that they approve...