I Think Sting Sang It.

If you've ever truly loved someone... you've thought about killing them.

And I've thought about killing many women. But the reality of murder is far more complex than most give real thought to. I came to this realization while opening a bottle of wine.



Hundreds of miles away from home, who has a corkscrew?

No one. So why is it that the hotel sells cork bottled wine in the "gift shop"? This seems simply absurd to me. But being the drunken crazy person that I am; I would never in a million years put a little cork between me and a Cabernet Sauvignon from Paso Robles.

Time for ingenuity.

To open a bottle of wine, one needs a strong pointed object (ball point pen) and something to insert that object into the cork with (heel of a dress shoe) so that you may coerce the cork down into the bottle (because, let's face it, without an Archimedes Screw and some leverage that baby ain't comin' out!).

With little effort I managed to get the cork down in the bottle, but did so at the cost of a little spillage, which was expected which is why I performed said operation in the bathroom.

There was some misting.
There was some spraying.
There was some spatter.

As I mopped it up with a brilliantly white face cloth, it occurred to me that even if I cared to be extremely diligent, I would never be able to get every last little drop.

There would always be evidence of my little crime. Microscopic particles of DNA waiting to point an accusatory finger.

"He did it! He's the one!"

So what is the moral of all this?

If you love someone...

...set them free.

and bring a corkscrew.

-D