You get home from work, open up the drinks cabinet and review your extensive supply of opened bottles of hooch, sitting along-side questionable Vermouths and the Schnapps and Ouzo bottles with labels that you cannot read from those holidays you went on a few years ago. Do you settle on The G and T? The straight up Bourbon (maybe with a chunk of ice)?
No you decide, reaching into the cabinet for the cocktail recipe book that the kids gave you for Christmas a couple of years ago. I will make myself a cocktail.
Fifteen minutes later, you have decided on your cocktail of choice - and commence the preparations.
Seventeen minutes later, you drop back to the straight up Bourbon because despite your cabinet storing more liquor than your local BevMo, for some reason you don’t have the Angostura Bitters that are - according to your manual - the essential - if not to say the very ‘pièce de résistance’ of the particular concoction that your inner mixologist was creating.
This chap is happy to report that - despite all the nay saying from the likes of Dawkins, Hitchens, Hawking et al… there is indeed a god.
In a tangential, yet related way, the Pope has today suggested that it is better to be an atheist than a bad Christian.
I’ll drink to that. (On both points)
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