White Russian
4/17/2026
Sometimes there’s a strain… well… it’s the strain for its time and place. Fits right in there like a boot in a stirrup. And that strain is called… well, that’s not important. What is important is how it makes a man feel.
Now this strain here… it don’t rush you. No sir. It just sort of eases in, like a quiet breeze through a half-open window. Starts up in the head, loosens the gears a bit, gets the thoughts meanderin’ instead of marchin’. Then it settles down into the body, spreads out nice and slow, like butter on warm toast.
Ain’t the kind that sends you rattlin’ the walls or questionin’ your life choices. No, this one’s more… agreeable. Companionable. The kind you take along when you’ve got nowhere in particular to be and no real intention of gettin’ there. And I reckon that’s about all a person can ask for in a strain.