Oenophobia and ABC

I love sober people. I love drunk people. Above all, I love people who are pleased with their thirsty, dry or even amphibian selves and don't impose themselves on others. Thank you dear, for caring about my liver... No dear, it's my liver, not yours... I'm Grown Up, remember? With one of those supposedly caring naggers in mind, this was drawn.

Let's take a closer look. The eyes I think grew on the fact that people of this disposition tend to blame alcohol for everything, bad weather included (or you could always try) and see little else. The castle -- is a castle...

There's a snail train too -- don't know what it does there. General frustration, I suppose, not cured by Oenophobians. (The word stems from Greek oinos, wine and phobia, of course.)

On an entirely different note I've added a little more on the Dalí ABC of last week. But progress is slow and enthusiasm is low, so I hope that I'll finish it off soon.

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Ps. Not much remains of the pattern that I used for the ground and the sky, but I'm sort of happy with it, irregular irregularity...