It’s five o’clock somewhere.
But what they never tell you—what the barroom philosophers in their Hawaiian shirts and dead-end dreams willfully ignore—is that this freedom, this celebration of the hour, is just another march toward the abyss.
A man drinks at noon, and they call him a drunk. A man drinks at five, and they call him civilized. But peel back the curtain, and you will see: the hour was an excuse all along.
Drink now, if you must. But do not pretend it is the hour that allows it. The abyss is always open.
#FiveOClockSomewhere #AiArt #BloodyMartini