We used to race cars. Pitcher after pitcher of awfil Killian’s Red, complete with darts and the most annoying music I could find.
Tonight, the wife and I got very, very tipsy so monkey love is not in the cards. I have put her to bed, with an emergency Klonopin should I get the idea that I’d like to do this all night.
The menu: IPA, prosecco and a bottle of Chardonanny as a capper.
We’re back, but maybe tomorrow will be better for friskiness.
I don’t know why I am telling you, but you should know me. Everyone should know me, eventually. I’m still here at the keyboard, and evidently I have not completed it yet.
This is not the band, but they are some of my favorite brothas:
Hope that renders right.