"So", he said opening a beer can. "It's your birthday! Tell you what, try some of this", pouring the contents of his can into a glass ashtray. I, forever gullible and never one to turn down anything I can eat or drink, indulged him.
For the next couple of hours my legs would do absolutely nothing that I asked of them in an orderly fashion and this morning I have an army of gun dogs with heavy boots thundering around inside my head! Does he wake up feeling like this every morning? No wonder he is always grumpy!
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