Dear Irish Car Bomb

Dear Irish Car Bomb,

You and I go way back. Sometimes all the way back to the alley behind the bar to break shit or fight people, but the fact remains that we have an unspoken connection that I feel needs to be put into words. You know you are a generous lover, and you are even cool enough to let me stray from your loving touch into the arms of other drinks. But last night was between you and me. I can't even begin to explain how you made me feel. It was a cross between euphoric and violent rampage. The first time your liquid contents touched my lips last night I felt as though I had experienced heaven. The ninth time your liquid contents touched my lips I was certain that I was going to see heaven that very moment after I died in the bar. Alas, I did not die. I know you would never harm me in any way. When I get hurt after you and I spend a night on the town it is always my fault. Please know that in no way do I blame you.

Also, I slept with your sister, vodka tonic. She's such a bitch. I could never love her like I love you.

Love,
Michael