I've been tweaking the layout of the 'blog entries - mainly just adding a background and a border as you can see.
I have some more to do. The text padding above the entry headers is not consistent.
I'll have to dig out my CSS book to see what I'm doing wrong.
"Sometimes, when you're putting up a mirror, you realize just how ugly your shirt is."
-- Guy on TLC's In a Fix
e-clec-tic
adj.
1. Selecting or employing individual elements from a variety of sources, systems, or styles.
2. Made up of or combining elements from a variety of sources.
ac-cus-tomed
adj.
1. Frequently practiced, used, or experienced; customary.
2. Being in the habit of.
3. Having been adapted to the existing environment and conditions.
form-fit-ting
adj.
1. Snugly fitting the coutours of the body.
Not much to report tonight. It was a regular Friday night. I had a Great Lakes Anniversary Ale, a Fischer's Amber Ale, and an Alaskan Smoked Porter. All were good, and all were beers I've had before...
...Just not in that particular order.
I've decided to call this particular alcohol combination the TimeBomb.
Last night I was fine for most of the night. I was fine at Rich O's talking with LaptopGirl, TrainGirl and RealTrainGirl, and DooRagGirl's husband and ExBartender. I was fine when MysteryLady and I had a surprise phone conversation while I was on the way home. I was fine once I got home. I was even fine when I started making this entry last night.
But at one point - specifically when I typed the words "and all were beers I'd had before" - The room started spinning. Then the house started spinning, followed in quick succession by the Earth and the entire Milky Way.
I did not get sick.
I just wished that I would.
Now today I've got that lovely dehydrated feeling that can only come from too much alcohol.
So yesterday I was bored so I decided to sign up at ratebeer.com.
I then went back through all my old 'blog entries and put all of my beer ratings into the ratebeer site.
I was a little surprised to see that I've already got 59 ratings, and I only need 41 more to qualify for their elite premium membership.
That's when things will turn around for me.
I mean, chicks dig guys who drink a lot of beer, right?
Right?
I hate you all so much.
So damn smug with your "I can eat all the meat I want and STILL lose weight" talk.
You'd think carbs were sent by the devil himself. Everywhere it's low-carb this, zero-carb that, reduced-carb other crowding all the good things from the grocery shelves and restaurant menus.
I hate you people.
Hey, I've got a diet for you.
It's called The Put Down The Donut You Fat Fuck Diet.
The nice thing about my diet is that you actually SAVE money. For one thing you don't have to spend an extra $2.00 at Hardee's to have them take the buns off of your hamburger and wrap it in lettuce.
Donuts and cookes and ice cream all cost money. If you don't eat these things you don't have to buy them anymore. You save money AND lose weight.
You disgusting pig.
If my first diet doesn't work for you because people are holding guns to your head making you eat Ho-Hos like there's no tomorrow I've got another diet that may work.
It's called The Get Off Your Fat Ass And Do Something You Obese Turd Diet.
This one requires a little more willpower because, as the name suggests, you actually have to do something.
You don't have to do much. You don't even have to call it excercise because those excercise people are a bunch of jerks anyway.
Just do some work around the house, or play with the dog, or masturbate furiously for hours at a time.
Just do something.
Or do nothing. It's your life and your body.
All I ask is that you sanctimonious pricks stop looking at me, eating my spaghetti dinner, like I was mainlining herion or something.
na-ive
adj.
1.
a. Simple and guileless; artless.
b. Unsuspecting or credulous.
per-fec-tion-ism
n.
1. A propensity for being displeased with anything that is not perfect or does not meet extremely high standards.
re-al-is-tic
adj.
1. Tending to or expressing an awareness of things as they really are.
bit-ter
adj.
1. Marked by resentment or cynicism.
des-per-ate
adj.
1. having lost all hope; despairing.
2. Marked by, arising from, or showing despair.
3. Reckless or violent because of despair.
4. Undertaken out of extreme urgency or as a last resort.
5. Nearly hopelessl critical.
6. Suffering or driven by great need or distress.
7. Extremely intense.
Set-tle (for)
v.
1. To accept in spite of incomplete satisfaction.
The words listed above are a timeline of a typical woman's romantic imperatives. This list was verified by a lesbian so it must be correct.
The women my own age are divided between the desperation and settling stages, and neither sounds very appealing.
Moving to progressively younger women I pause briefly at the desperate ones, though most of those are already in a doomed relationship, though they don't know it yet.
Next we find the bitter group.
No thanks.
Finally we come the good ones - the realistic ones.
These are the women that have gotten over their innocent theories about life and romance and have also successfully made it through their search for ThePerfectMan.
The realistic ones are the smallest group. They are also the most sought-after.
This sucks for me, but at least I know it.
I'm in a realistic phase myself.
Friday started out as a waste of time.
I wanted to appear less creepy to LaptopGirl - especially afer last night's ramblings - so I decided to spend at least the first half of the night at Hooter's drinking Newcastle with my cousin Jeff.
There were several things wrong with that plan.
First, Jeff wasn't even at Hooter's. He was at home apparently having a fight with his weedeater.
Second, Hooter's was out of Newcastle.
This pissed me off. The only place in the area where I can get Newcastle on tap and they were out. I ended up having a glass of water with my cold french fries and burnt burger and left pretty disgusted with the whole place.
So instead of getting to Rich O's fashionalbly late I got there a little after 8:00. Again.
Getting there that early in the night presents some challenges. I cannot drink my normal allotment of a couple of strong beers and a few weaker ones. I have to pace myself.
Tonight I chose to drink only strong beers, but to sip them and make them last.
Anyway, when I first arrived Rich O's was dead. I saw ExBartender, but didn't really talk to him. I sat at the island with DooRagGirl's husband for a while and had a couple Great Lakes 15th Anniversary Ales.
Yummy.
Oh yeah, I hadn't been there 10 minutes when LaptopGirl called to tell me that she'd be there at 10:30. This was significant because it meant that I could not allow myself to leave no matter how boring it was.
Once DooRagGirl's husband left I moved to the living room area where I was joined by a couple I didn't know. ProbableLesbian and CluelessSuitor turned out to be pretty good people. ProbableLesbian in particular seemed very nice, and she also helped to pass the time while all the whippersnappers talked about transformers and other things I'm too old to remember.
At one point I had a Fischer's Amber Ale. This was the only French item on Rich O's bottled list. I ordered it because I thought it might be similar to the frenchy beer from the Two Brothers Brewery I'd enjoyed so much in the Spring. Well this wasn't anything like the Two Brothers ale but it was still quite delicious. Had I known then what I know now I would have been drinking this all along.
At around 10:00, a half-hour before LaptopGirl was scheduled to arrive, one of her ex-boyfriends joined us in the living room area. I was a little concerned because I couldn't remember if I was supposed to be mad at him or not. As it turned out everything was fine.
LaptopGirl arrived and was very cute and, because of ExBoyfriend's presence, I became invisible. This was okay, though, because ProbableLesbian and I were able to pass the time by talking about how old the rest of the group made us feel.
MisunderstoodGirl joined us after a while, further lowering the average age of the group.
Wow.
All of a sudden I'm very conscious of the fact that I'm rambling. I need to stop now.
But wait!
On the way home I was quite surprised to see VigilanteGirl still working. I talked with her for a few minutes - being careful to not freak her out again. Once I was satisifed that she was no longer scared of me I was able to go home.
(cross-posted to the pool 'blog)
Every now and then I do a search for "barenada" just to see what comes up.
Occasionally I'm pleasantly surprised with what I find.
Take these Gems from the Billiards Digest community board:
UWPoolGod
You guys ever go to http://www.barenada.com/index2.shtml
and check out his daily banter on which beer he tried last night. Pretty funny. And some good pool vids.
Aboo
That's a very cool site I've never seen anyone bank like that in my life... and he says he can't compete on the upper level in the DCC. Wow. That's all I've got to say. Wow.
Something has died in my Monte Carlo.
Because of all the rain I haven't driven it for several weeks, but Friday morning I decided to take drive it to work.
Bad Idea.
There's the faint, but unmistakable, odor of rotting meat coming fom somewhere in the car.
My brief inspection couldn't locate the source. The only real clue is a little bit of seat insulation laying on the floor of the trunk.
Today I will perform a much more detailed inspection.
Please ignore the previous entry.
I think I might be drunk.
hic.
ob-sta-cle
n.
1. That which opposes, stands in the way of, or holds up progress.
hin-drance
n.
1.
a. The act of hindering.
b. The condition of being hindered.
2. That which hinders; an impedenance.
Friday was a strange night. All the way home from Rich O's I tried to figure out what made it so different from all the other nights I've spent there.
I figured it out.
I ended the night in a good mood.
It took me a while to figure this out because it was such an unusual feeling for me.
The night was, despite factors that could have caused stress, quite relaxing.
So anyway, first off I got to Rich O's very early. I'd left home at 7:30 hoping to catch VigilanteGirl at work, but alas she wasn't there so I got to Rich O's well before 8:00.
I did no experimentation with beer, prefering to stick with my regular indulgences. I had two NABC Beak's Bests, an Alaskan Smoked Porter, and a Guiness, in that order.
Keeping me company tonight were LaptopGirl, CoffeeDude, TallLady, and GrammarNazi and her husband.
For most of the night LaptopGirl and I talked about various fluff that I'd rather not broadcast to the world.
That brings up a good point.
I write this thing for myself - not for anyone else.
Because I write for myself I think I should write mostly ABOUT myself and what's going on with me and in my head.
At times, just to keep things in context, I need to mention things that are going on with my friends, but lately I've been feeling a little guilty whenever I do that.
I mean, it's not the world's business that one friend of mine is getting a divorce. It's also not anyone's business that another friend is contemplating a move, or is in trouble at work.
As I get to know these people better I get a desire to protect their privacy that I didn't feel before. Making up nicknames for the people I write about can only go so far, and lately I've felt the need to go a little farther - to be less candid and less specific in my entries.
All of this new secrecy can make for some pretty boring entries I know, but since the only intended audience is myself I'll try to deal with it.
Back to Friday, such as it was.
LaptopGirl and I spent most of the night sitting in the living room area with the other aforementioned regulars. I got a strange vibe from LaptopGirl that was difficult to identify. Once I did identify it I was quite pleasantly surprised.
I mattered to her.
It amazes me how much that little realization meant to me - and how much it still does. I've spent so much time these past several months waiting for the inevitable InvisibityFactor to kick in that to realize that tonight it wouldn't come was like a kick in the teeth.
In a good way though.
At some point during the recent past I seem to have been promoted, in LaptopGirl's mind, from mere acqaintance to friend.
That word, "friend," can often be a bummer. Guys get placed into the "friend zone" and there's no escape - no matter what the guy may actually want.
This time I'm actually okay with it. I'd absolutely rather be in the friend zone than the acqaintance zone. Any higher promotions would be fraught with peril and I know it.
Would it be worth the risk? Perhaps.
Do I expect that opportunity? Not at all. And I'm okay with that.
I'm 39 years old. I've been through a spectacularly failed marriage, and a handful of other serious relationships, none of which have worked out.
This is quite weird to be writing this, but nobody in my life - not my ex-wife, any of my old girlfriends, or any of the women I've had crushes on - have ever occupied my thoughts the way LaptopGirl does.
Something about her just fascinates me, and I catch myself thinking about her several times each day.
Not all of these thoughts are good ones. I've become quite perturbed by the InvisibilityFactor several times. Some of her opinions are so different from my own that I think we must be from different planets. Her not recognizing my voice on the phone last weekend bothered me much more than I'd have thought it would.
It's very strange. I've had crushes before, but they've all had at least some element of hope. In this case I've never had any indication whatsoever that there could ever be the slightest interest in me.
But I don't care.
This fascination, not quite a romantic one, not quite a platonic one, has kept my mind more occupied than it's been for a long long time.
I'm writing this entry on a Friday night - actually early Saturday morning - and I've suddenly become timid. I found out tonight that LaptopGirl has indeed checked out my 'blog, so there's a decent chance that she'll read this entry as well.
Perhaps I should delete it.
Don't want to scare her off after all - to make her think I'm some kind of stalker or something.
But that's the thing; there's nothing to be scared off from. I'm really content with the way things are. I'm not scheming for anything more.
That just blows my mind.
How could I meet such a beautiful and intelligent woman and NOT want more?
Perhaps it's because I've been hurt several times in the past. Perhaps it's things like the InvisibilityFactor. Perhaps I just know better than to try to become involved with someone so different from me.
Perhaps I'm just kidding myself and I don't know what I want at all.
I don't know, but I'll keep enjoying the ride while it lasts.
A conversation I overheard today:
PetaGirl: That's just so mean the way they treat those chickens!
InstigatorGuy: Well what about cotton plants? They hack those plants up just to make your clothes.
PetaGirl: But that's different!
InstigatorGuy: Why is it different? Plants are alive too you know.
PetaGirl: But they can't talk!
Finally fixed the bug in my code that was supposed to automagically fill in my age at the top of my main page.
I left the bug in for a long time because I thought it was funnier when it just said "error: value too large."
Now I realize that this is no laughing matter.
On Saturday, for whatever reasons, I found my myself in a mood for the apple taste of a Belgian ale.
My initial attempt to satify this craving was a Great Lakes 15th Anniversary Ale. Yummy, but I still wanted more apples.
The second beer I tried was a Mad Bitch - I'm sure it has a real name but everyone just calls it Mad Bitch.
This was as close to drinking hard cider as I think I could stand. I liked this beer, but at a whopping 10% alcohol I know that one will always be my limit.
Once the Mad Bitch as gone I got a little bored with Rich O's Nobody I knew was there except for ExBartender and he was involved in a loud conversation with some tatooed guy.
I ended up leaving and going to Jillian's of all places.
VigilanteGirl had mentioned earlier that she would go there after work, so I went and had a couple of Newcastles while I waited.
I guess we had a misunderstanding as she didn't show up. Actually as it turns out she was there for a bit but her and her friends didn't stay - they had gone by the time I got there.
Once I left Jillian's I went back to Rich O's, got talked into going to a party, got bored at the party, and went home.
com-pas-sion
n.
1. Deep awareness of the suffering of another coupled with the wish to relieve it.
fu-til-i-ty
n.
1. The quality of having no useful result; uselessness.
2. Lack of importance or purpose; frivolousness.
3. A futile act.
dis-miss
v.
1. To end the employment or service of; discharge.
2. To stop considering; rid one's minds of; dispel.
3. To refuse to accept or recognize; reject.
Tonight was certainly interesting.
I spent the night talking with LaptopGirl, CoffeeDude, and CoffeeDude's brother.
I had a couple of Guiness pints, and an NABC Beak's Best. The only experimentation I did was to have a SkullSplitter.
It was quite disgusting at first, but after an inch or so it started to taste pretty good. I suspect that my initial disgust was caused by the Beak's Best still coating my mouth. At 8.5% it was too strong for me to risk getting a second opinion.
Tonight I basically tried to be a nice person but apparently failed. Not only was I blown off, I was told that I was being blown off as it was happening. People sitting across the room were like, "Dude, you just got DISSED" and I was like "gee like thanks for letting me know as I am like stupid and would never have noticed otherwise."
They say nice guys finish last.
CoffeeDude did try to stick up for me but it was clearly a lost cause at that point.
Also, it was pretty cool that LaptopGirl took one look at this stranger at Rich O's and guessed that he was CoffeeDude's brother, and it turned out she was right.
I've noticed a pretty odd side-effect to my owning a 65" television.
Because the screen dimensions are 16:9 instead of the normal 4:3 most shows need to be stretched horizontally so the picture fills the screen.
This makes everyone look short and fat.
I've become so used to this that the women that are hot are STILL hot when they look short and fat.
So now in real life I've become much less critical about chunkier women than I used to be.
So while I still have pretty high standards, I now find myself looking at, and appreciating, women that six months ago I wouldn't have paid any attention to at all.
The next thing you know I'll be stocking up on midget porn.
I've been spending some time trying to decide who to pine away for.
I generally feel most like myself when I'm obsessing over some girl that is (a) completely inappropriate, (b) wholly unavailable, (c) way out of my league, or any combination of the above. Then I also have the standard requirements like attractiveness, intelligence, and personality.
There also has to be an inkling, however slight, that some slight change in circumstances could allow a real relationship. Perhaps if she wasn't married, or if I was more attractive, or if I moved to France - that kind of change.
For the last few months that niche was filled by LaptopGirl, but for reasons best left unsaid she no longer meets enough of the requirements.
So I've been thinking about a replacement.
I've got it narrowed down to a trio of candidates.
VigilanteGirl
Her main qualification has to be her age. I'm old enough to be too old for her mother. While that's fine by me, in a dirty-old-man kind of way, I'm sure that the age difference would make her completely unavailable to an old coot like me.
There also the issue of her workplace competition. VigilanteGirl is not the only candidate that I considered from that establishment. To truly pine for her, I'd have to stop thinking about some of her coworkers; notably TwinSisters and NeighborsDaughter.
There's also the issue of the flirting. At least a small part of me has to suspect that there may be something behind her innuendos, and of course if there's any chance that she's available for me then that blows that deal.
FilleFrancaiseSexy
The hot French girl that came into Rich O's last weekend would at first glance appear to be perfect. The age factor is there, making her quite inappropriate for me. She's possibly third or fourth on the list of the most beautiful women I've ever laid eyes on, so she's so far out of my league that, as they say, she can't even see my league. And oh yeah, she lives in France, so availability should never be a problem.
I'm concerned that I've never successfully pined away for anyone that I couldn't see on a semi-regular basis. My limit seems to be about a month - after that much absence I'm usually out looking for someone else to torture my soul over.
HotWorkGirl
I'm hesitant about even writing about HotWorkGirl here. I'm not sure that she meets ANY of the requirements I listed earlier. Her only real chance to be inappropriate or otherwise unavailable is to be a LOT older than she appears or to be a lesbian. She's just too new for me to have categorized her yet.
I can't decide. Perhaps I should widen the list of candidates.
There are several likely women - each more beautiful or young or married or gay or drugged-out than the last - that could possibly step up and occupy enough of my thoughts that a full-scale crush COULD ensue.
I suppose I'll just wait and see how things play out.
There are millions, maybe billions, of ineligible bachelorettes out there. I'm sure I'll find the worst possible one someday.
For reasons that I cannot fathom I haven't honored my July 11th Hottie of the Day until now.
Paige Davis is the host of TLC's Trading Spaces, one of my favorite shows.
Paige's perkiness would likely get old very quickly, but her sexiness may just make up for it.
group-ie
n. Slang
1. A fan, especially a young woman, who follows a rock group around on tours.
Saturday night was much like Friday. It seems that most of the regulars were in attendance at one time or another and I spent the night in the living room area talking about various topics ranging from my quiet demeanor to the severe lack of attractive, single, straight women at Rich O's.
I had the same beers I had on Friday, in probably the same order.
What a wild-man I am.
As I left I spotted LaptopGirl sitting in her car so I said hello and left before I got drafted into chauferring her and her new boyfriend someplace.
ex-ot-ic
adj.
1. From another part of the world; foreign.
2. Intriguingly unusual or different; excitingly strange.
I'm having a tough time thinking of anything to write about Friday. Everyone was at Rich O's and there were a lot of interesting conversations, but nothing really sticks in my mind...
...EXCEPT the presence of FilleFrancaiseSexy who was there with CanadianGirl and her entourgage from work.
I heartily recommend that CanadianGirl bring more sexy French girls to Rich O's. They're just what the place has been missing.
For the beer part of this report the only experimenting I did was to order a Great Lakes 15th Anniversary Ale. This is a Belgian Ale, and it had all of the appleness that I've come to expect from Belgians, but this beer had a lot of other characteristics that I cannot even begin to describe. It was one of the most complex beers I've ever had.
I liked it, and so now the Great Lakes Brewery is about 5-for-5 when it comes to making a beer that I like.
Other than that I had a few of my regulars; NABC Beak's Best, Arcadia Scotch Ale, and Alaskan Smoked Porter.
Got the bill for my truck repairs today.
It cost me four-hundred for a new radiator (which I needed) and another three-hundred for a new timing belt (for which replacement was way overdue) so it was like, eleventy-zillion or so total.
Today's the first time I've been broke since I refinanced my mortgage and got all that lovely money back in the Spring. Being broke sucks.
I've heard that most people don't dream in color. I do, and I always have as far as I can tell.
I've also heard that lucid dreams - dreams where you know you're dreaming and so you can control the action - are pretty rare. I have them all the time.
Those two things make me lucky I suppose, but all is not perfect in my dream worlds.
To tell if I'm dreaming or not I've used the trick where you find some printed words, read them, then read them again. If the words change then you're certainly dreaming. A watch can also be used if you can't find any writing.
More often, however, I just use the jump test. This is when I simply jump into the air and then try to delay my landing. If I can delay it for even a second I'm dreaming.
In my dreams I can walk through walls. This is something I had to develop. I started by passing through glass windows, then through closed doors, and now I'm at the point where no room can contain me, and no locks can prevent my access. The trick is to flash my hands at whatever barrier I'm about to collide with - I do that and I just pass right through.
I'm also working on my invisibility. This comes in quite handy when I'm skulking around looking for some cutie to molest. Some especially sensitive characters seem to sense my presence, but all they ever do is watch me pass with a quizzical look on their faces.
I can of course also fly, though that ability has the annoying habit of diminishing as I use it. It's like I have a certain amount of flight time allocated at the start of each dream, and once that quota has been used up I'm limited to just fast running, or maybe sliding around like I'm skating.
Height is also an issue. I seem to be limited to just a couple of dozen feet above the ground. Trying to go higher uses up my quota very quickly. I'd reasoned that If I could just get high enough I could then just drift back to to whatever destination I wanted. No such luck.
It's very annoying because my dreams typically start out at home - either my current one or the one from my childhood - and I can never get to where I want to go by flying. My flight time allocation just isn't long enough.
Driving isn't much of an option either. It seems that all of the cars in my dreams are limited to maybe 5 MPH at most.
Running can get me to where I want to go - and I'm a very fast and relaxed dream-runner, but then I run into the most annoying thing of all.
I wake up.
All of my dreams are too short. I'm such a light sleeper that nearly every time I get to my destination I wake up. Just for a second, but enough time to have to start all over again.
I've been trying to develop teleportation to cut down on my travel time but I haven't had much success with it yet. I'll keep trying though.
How's this for an awkward ending to this entry?
I thought I'd jot down some ideas for future 'blog entries so that the next time I find myself in a little creativity drought I'd have some ideas ready and waiting.
Despite my stated intention to make an entry at least every couple of days there have been way too way too many times where I fail to meet that goal. This entry may help ease that problem.
1. The Mystery Hottie. This is the person you see while driving to work, or the girl at the grocery store. You don't know their name or anything about them yet you still want to have sex with them.
2. Asshole of the Day. The people who take up three parking spots. The people who won't use their turn signal. The ultra-Liberals.
3. The Stupidest Thing I Heard Today. I could make an entire website devoted to this topic.
4. Stuff I Didn't Know. They say you learn something new every day. Maybe I should write about the things I learn each day. Like yesterday I learned that the first man to go over 100,000 feet in a balloon got back to Earth by jumping and parachuting. How cool is that?
There's a saying - at least I think there is, maybe I just made it up - that bad things come in threes.
As I type this I'm waiting for the trifecta to complete.
First, I'm relocated to the worst position possible at work. Then on Saturday my truck developed a radiator leak.
Now, as I type this, something in my computer is making an awful racket. I can hope that it's just one of the cooling fans, but I fear that it's one of my disk drives.
If it is a disk I hope it will hold out until I can buy a replacement and transfer all of my files.
Playing with the Terragen Strata plugin and made this one.
I like this image. I think it can be a lot better than it is. Maybe it should just apply itself instead of being so lazy all the time.
as-i-nine
adj.
1. Utterly stupid or silly; asinine behavior.
2. Of, relating to, or resembling as ass.
First off, Friday night.
I had a pint of the Arcadia Scotch Ale, which I like more and more each time I drink it. What happened next was NOT the beer's fault. About halfway through I started feeling a little queasy. By the time I finished my pint I wasn't feeling very good at all so I left. I have since figured out the reason for my little anxiety attack, and it's nobody's business but mine. So there.
Anyway, once home I felt a little better. I had a bottle of Stone Smoked Porter while I watched a movie. It was pretty good beer actually, not as strong of a smoke flavor as some of the other smoked porters I've had, but enough to be recognizable, and enough to be pretty good.
On Saturday, I resolved to be in a better mood.
The night started out pretty well. VigilanteGirl was very fired up about the adventure she'd just had. She'd chased down some gas thieves and got their license number for the cops. She was VERY fired up, and her enthusiasm was quite contagious. I arrived at Rich O's in a very good mood. Ahhh, youth.
My mood was quickly diminished by what has to have been to most fucked up conversation I've ever heard. Now I want to be clear that I consider these people to be my friends, and that hasn't changed, but when people start talking about how cool Nazi's are and how, even if they're not cool, America is no different than the Nazis, I have to either bite my tongue or go off on someone.
I chose to bite my tongue. People like that are, I've found, not very receptive to conflicting views, and like I said, these people were my friends.
After a while I moved over to the island area and spent a good couple of hours talking with CoffeeDude about a lot of things.
Oh yeah, beer. While all the stupidity was going on I had an Arcadia. Once I'd moved to the island I switched to NABC Beak's Best.
I was able, via my conversation with CoffeeDude, to turn my mood back to a positive one.
Thanks, CoffeeDude.
