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I can’t enjoy a good night’s sleep unless I have to force my consciousness into submission with a cocktail of 1937 Glenfiddich, Nyquil, and whatever I managed to steal from the hooker I just kicked out. Waiting until you’re tired is for pussies.
I can’t enjoy a good night’s sleep unless I have to force my consciousness into submission with a cocktail of 1937 Glenfiddich, Nyquil, and whatever I managed to steal from the hooker I just kicked out. Waiting until you’re tired is for pussies.
For me it’s a cocktail of bath salts, incense, Enya, a long soak in the tub, and the screams of whatever housepet I happen to be drowning that day.