And sometimes ya gotta just bust out the top shelf stuff...

(It's the eighth down o nthe list, at least at the time of printing...)

Highland Park, Bicentenary 200 Golden Years, Tube, 21Y-1977.

This gracious lady made a present of it to me once upon a time, in exchange for some computer work...

In tribute to Seldom Sober's car, which was stolen in NYC.

As I recall, we finished filling up that back seat until it was almost impossible to sit there.

"Last night" - for your viewing pleasure...

Eight beer caps scattered around the garbage can is a bad sign... especially when two of you were only sitting four feet away...

If you measure your scotch in hands, is that a bad thing?

Is it bad when you begin referring to beer-in-cans as "the little ones"? Just 'cause I've been drinking pints for so long now...

Yesterday night we went out in Manchester, went to three different places, met up with two lunatic actors, Carri and Sean, who were a veritable boatload of fun. They randomly sat down at our table because they were "tired of each other" and wanted to talk to us.

I found out that a shot in England is only 2/3rds of our shots back home (25mL compared to 36mL). Which is terrible, of course.

My brother and I watched the original Gone in Sixty Seconds from 1974 today. It was rocking.

Then we went and toured the local bar scene.

The first bar we went to was incredibly low key. There were maybe four people in there, all over sixty. We walked in, commandeered the pool table in the back, had a drink, and two games of pool. The dude at the bar never checked our id's; he didn't care.

Since the scene was blowing, we heaved out of there, and went to another local bar (downtown fairfax has a number of these bars, and it is within easy walking distance of our house).

At this bar, which my brother's been to before numerous times, there was a lady checking id's. We presented our California Driver's Licenses to her. She examined them at great length, and then declared that they were "too thin." I hesitated somewhere between shock and belligerence, but we decided to leave peacefully.

I mean, I've been over 21 for goodness knows how long, and my brother is approaching 24, so we are all good here, in this respect. I've seen plenty of valid out-of-state-licenses turned away at various establishments over the years, but never two valid California id's. I mean, the pictures on them don't even look like us because they were taken six to eight years ago, but that wasn't even the complaint. No, I get that complaint all the time. The complaint was that they were "too thin." Incredible.

Well, we blew that bar off, and went to the one next door. Here we purchased two drinks, which cost nine dollars, and for which I paid with a $10 bill. My change came back and was $11.

"Far out," I thought. "I go to three bars: one doesn't card, doesn't care; one doesn't let me in because my id is 'too thin,' and the third pays me to drink there!"

What a #$^%^&*% crazy night!

Anyways, like most of these stories, however, it has a Christian ending. I returned the extra money, gaining a new friend (who didn't even give us free drinks! -- he couldn't though, his boss came in right after the messed-up transaction)...

Anyways...

Well, as I was sitting down to blog, I put my beer -- recently purchased at the 7-11 down the street for an EXHORIBANT price -- down on my desk/table. Well, folks, it, perhaps sensing its impending demise, leapt off the table, doing a back flip. My reflexes being pretty good, and my disproportionate investment being at stake, I lunged forward, caught the beer, and then pounded it.

"You will NOT get away from me, beer," I said vehemently. "Butr I will give your eleven brothers the mercy of a quick end."

That is all.