Who are the people who are always crying the blues?Who do you know who reeks of self-pity?Who keeps getting beaten up for no reason at all?Whose eyes are bleary and bloodshot?It’s those who spend the night with a bottle,for whom drinking is serious business.Don’t judge wine by its label,or its bouquet, or its full-bodied flavor.Judge it rather by the hangover it leaves you with—the splitting headache, the queasy stomach.Do you really prefer seeing double,with your speech all slurred,Reeling and seasick,drunk as a sailor?“They hit me,” you’ll say, “but it didn’t hurt;they beat on me, but I didn’t feel a thing.When I’m sober enough to manage it,bring me another drink!”
