Tell you what, this Ginger Beer may come in a plain white wrapper, but it mixes up into a mighty fine Moscow Mule, with vodka, or into the Mule’s more laid back cousin, with rum. A few ‘o these under your hip huggin’ belt and you’ll be scrounging for bread and ham. Keep a little smelly cheese in your cottage, wash the arugula when you can still see single, and don’t worry bout burning yourself on the toaster. You won’t feel a thing, darlin’.
I’m feeling it now. The price of a mighty fine vacation – twelve hours on the east coast corridor where there is no guarantee you will get home, until you do, in fact, set foot inside. Sure could use a Mule in a Collins glass. Would he kick his way out?
Trim the crusts, wouldya lovey?
Too too tired to chew.
Home sweet home. Trew.