Good whisky (or whiskey) is wasted on me - it all tastes like Flaming Caramel Briquette. I can't tell the difference between a top shelf rum and Captain Morgan's sucked out of the felt of a pool table which is a very real example I'm not proud of but it merits mentioning because, y'know, stay in school? What surprised me after a while was that I've actually got quite staunch opinions on beer, what with living in Germany and being exposed to a vast variety of different breweries and styles I quite enjoy. But if there's a single answer to a alcohol I actually really like to have, as a treat? Gin. The folly of old London itself. There's some unflattering tales of when I was drinking way too heavily, but gin remains one of those drinks that I'll actually keep in a liquor cabinet and take out when I want a little whiff of something pleasant that I'm looking forward to.

Okay, so... beef. I'm assuming we don't mean a stew ingredient in the best thing ever, but like, beef waggles eyebrows kinda beef? Beef is a tricky one. 'cause beef is one of those things where on someone it looks extreme and too much, where it suits a different character just right. Honestly? I don't have a good answer for this, except, "Let me take a look and I'll know it when I see it."

This is exactly the face that I make when that shit lands. When I hear someone groan. When somebody laughs. When I get a, "Oh, for fuck's sake, Mack!"

Yes, I probably am really annoying at parties. But at least you always know where I am!

Left boob because I'm right handed and I will not elaborate.