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Further proof that drinking will kill you - mjp Books
A relaxing Saturday night at home, I was cooking a pot of spaghetti, all was well with the world, so I thought a finger or two of fine Kentucky Bourbon over a couple of ice cubes would be appropriate. I guess it was a faulty bottle, because the instant the cork popped, the bottom fell out, and the contents of the entire bottle flowed out over the countertop, and all over me.