Originally Posted by
AngryFish
This is NOT the place to talk about, of all things, liquid evil. I am indignant that I am now compelled to discuss the deep amber color and thick milky head of the Guinness Draught that has been sitting in my refrigerator. It is a deeply personal relationship that I have with Guinness and now I hear its voice, albeit muffled, in the fridge calling me. I can hear it sing as it rolls out of the neck of the bottle and crashes so sweetly in the frosted glass, its perfume tickling my nose. I listen with quiet ears as it sighs resting now freed in the open air tempting me with it siren song. She is cold and beckons my lips gently. I must go. She is my Guinness and I am her man.
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