It's bad enough, Dervish, that the state-run liquor stores of Virginia echo East German meat markets, but through conditioning one can learn to suppress the rage. It's when I get my handle of Old Crow Bourbon or Burnett's Gin home, and have to remove the built-in plastic pourer, that my peevish self screams out, "Stop putting that irksome strainer between my glass and my spirits!"
Dousing my spirits
My bottle has been constrained
Darn plastic pourer
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