God, how I hate it when I spill peanuts on the carpet, drunken fool that I am. Alone, you growl at such things, in a way you would never allow yourself in the presence of civilized human companionship (not to speak of civilized human female companionship). Terrible.
Thank God my wine-consumption is limited by available money.
And, with some luck, I’ll soon have some sort of woman again. That will curtail the growling, and the wine as well. Or will I, God forbid, get hold of a woman who doesn’t give a damn how much I drink, how many peanuts I spill on the floor? A woman who will accept me as I am, growl and all? Heaven forbid.

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