And so it was that when Claire’s company arrived at four that I was sloshingly hebetated, into the home stretch toward obtunded, with close to half the bottle of Sotol behind me. My witty conversation elicited blank stares and horrified gasps, and my prodigious feats of strength and dexterity necessitated extensive duct tape repair in the cold light of the next day’s dawn. Fortunately, I awoke ready for action, fully dressed, in the midst of the rubble. (read more at What’s Up)
The dog barks, and the caravan moves on.
