hmmmph

As I continue to re-read old TPT entries, and I've only made it from April '05 to October '04, and as I continue to drink this all-too-cheerful white wine (courtesy herself, who's more partial to the white than the red, which is hardly a character flaw, if occasionally less than ideal but certainly not inconvenient), and DAMN I'm good when I'm bitter. Sharp. Self-involved, self-obsessed, sure, but observant, witty, verbally acute.  I should be so lucky. Oh, wait.  My small fan-base might enjoy it, and, perversely, I might as well, but the whole predicated on misery aspect is rather a large turn off.  "So, does married life begin with a hangover?", I texted my newly married Irish drinking buddy (who is, perhaps, close to single-handedly responsible for keeping tpt dead by keeping me drunk from April '05 to, oh, mid-December '05).  "Not at all.  With a vigorous ride, actually," he replied.  Bless.