Drunk With The Wife

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.

Quiche, RB

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