I think I've stayed up too late tonight. Tomorrow is going to suck. But it's
my own damn fault for sleeping 10 hours last night.
(bottle) Hazy gold. Minimal head. Citrusy mild aroma. Flavor a little sour, more orange than apple. Not bad, though.
I would gladly allow my mind to be read. How many others can say the same
I've missed the stinky feet game! I wanna play! Damn.
It's like I'm living in a minefield sometimes.
Covington was booked for Saturday, but I've made a reservation for Sunday
night. Yay for holidays!
Persistent problem picking proper pronouns.
There were just some things I had to see for myself.
I need to get out of town Saturday, but stupid Covington is all booked again.
Some actions are rooted in selfishness and/or ignorance and/or cruelty
and/or mistrust and/or childishness and/or stupidity and/or blindness and/or
deception, and sometimes it's futile to look for an honorable motive.
Ten hours of sleep. That ought to do me for a while.
I think that I will sleep tonight. Imagine that, me of all people,
Sometimes I think that potato skins are the perfect food.
That was fun and very-much needed.
At Tucker's. Waiting. Excited.
Sometimes the river overflows its banks.
(draft) The color of dark cola. Nice tan head. Very noticeable aroma of chocolate and roasted malts. Flavor mostly subdued chocolate. Pretty good.
Worst. Timing. Ever.
Crossing my fingers!
That is all, just whoa.
It's not that I don't want to, and it's not that I can't, it's that I shouldn't.
Dinner was yummy. Now I'm at Jack's indulging in some daydreams.