by Tim Gilmore, 12/26/2014
It’s three a.m. on Christmas Eve, which makes it Christmas Day, might as well be drunk on whiskey sours, eat half a pound of boiled peanuts, then roast when those run out, for the best things on earth are them most of earth, and it’s few joys on earth like filling your body, after filling your belly with hooch, with fresh Georgia peanuts on Christmas day when all your guests have left the parties and the valleys.
