This has jack all to do with trailers but everything to do with liquor stores, particularly as I'm quite intoxicated at the moment from the proceeds.

Yesterday I put to the test my ghetto-fabulous rear rack + milk crate. Loaded that bad boy up with a twelve pack plus 3.5L of booze. Rolling down the street with twelve bottles jingling, a chain jangling (gotta run it dry, dontcha know), fendres a rattlin', and a partridge in a pear tree. In an embarassing sort of way, I felt like the jolliest f'ing elf ever.

Meanwhile I need to take the damn dog for a walk and work some of this out of my system.