Mouthful of Platinum

Laugh now, drink later.

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Long story short: The rhythm finally got me tonight.

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more mouthful of platinum

You say it's love, but I say you're suffering from Stockholm Syndrome.

Get out of my altered state of consciousness and into my straitjacket.

Jesus he knows me, and he knows I'm right.

Age ain't nothing but a number of reasons I need another drink.

Your backwards, upside-down visor told me everything I needed to know even before you opened your mouth.

I can't help but suspect that the selection of magazines in a waiting room is some sort of a test.

Beauty is but a light switch away.

Playing Rush at deafening levels is my sock on the doorknob.

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