Weekend Open Bar: Upon the gilded plains of mortality
My wife turns thirty this weekend, Saturday to be specific. It’s a weird sensation, knowing that she has shacked up with me for life, and been with me since she was literally twenty. Spent her golden years with a guaranteed Garbage Lord. It’s nice though, to chart our progress together, to check off life events together, and even more specifically to get high, eat cookies, and watch Workaholics together.
It’s nice, it’s quaint, it’s quiet.
I like spending time with her, and I like spending time with you folks, you denizens of the Space-Ship Omega. So let’s hang out at the Weekend Open Bar. Pass some marginal time within our comfortably marginal existences together, as we are lucky enough (or not lucky enough, the grape press of industry is whittling away our off-time) to have the next couple of days off.
So comrades, what are you doing this weekend? What are you watching? Eating? Reading? Thinking about? Anything and everything goes, so long as you adhere to the sign above the Tavern entrance: Thou Shalt Not Be A Douche.
How you folks doing?