the privilege of a lifetime is being who you are

Any alternate topic for this post would necessarily require delving into the implications, arising from the revelation your bartender regularly checks up on you. Now it might be true, this only occurs when you haven't been around in awhile, but it has the makings of a sordid tale. And this is a non-sordid post; maybe next time.




This weekend's buffalo roam landed us amongst those inclined to celebrating wedded bliss. Blessedly warned of potential drunkenness and pillaging, a crew of the usual suspects, led by one cock-eyed pirate, made true to their word. The night was long and festive.


There was plunder piled high next to a flock of emo-goth kids, attempting to forestall the inevitable explosion of angst, as the old folks pinched their cheeks and told them " you were so cute in your diapers." Nice to see life's little circle continues its orbit.

But back to the ostensible purpose for this little walkabout in Nevada; a couple of souls got hitched! The evening winds, heated by some nearby dragon's breath, blew down the canyons and across the desert floor. Never fear though! Flowing liquor and some not-so-in-distress damsels managed to soothe away any concerns over the weather.

Slowly, portions of brain matter are beginning to function once again. A vague remembrance has been coalescing; one of a pool with clothed, partially-clothed, and a least one woman clad in foul undergarments.
Oh, mine eyes! Mine eyes! How could such sweet blissful ignorance be rendered into such painful imagery? Damn trickster Gods are at it again. Giggling their little assess off, I bet.

I call to the stand two of the prime suspects, Herr Jagermeister and Senor Tequila! Alas, none of the sorry witnesses have recovered enough mental clarity and the accused will saunter away to perform their devious ruse again and again. It would be a far more boring world without them, so we continue to put up with their shit, eh?

However, at least two incidents have been confirmed.

• The local constables stopped by to say hello and snuggle with their fellow brothers in the fraternal order of enforceability, fortunately they were whisked away on dreams and promises of controlling the thunder.
  

• A later unrelated report of some type of ritual copulation ceremony, designed to christen the premises may not have been exaggerated, as originally thought. The names must be held in strict confidence...until the video comes out. You gotta love a video enabled home security system.

It was a fine affair.

A toast to the beloved couple:

We bathe your palms
In the showers of wine,
In the crook of the kindling,
In the seven elements,
In the sap of the tree,
In the milk of honey,

We place nine pure, choice gifts
In your clear beloved face:

The gift of form,
The gift of voice,
The gift of fortune,
The gift of goodness,
The gift of eminence,
The gift of charity,
The gift of integrity,
The gift of true nobility,
The gift of apt speech.

Slainte'!

Next time we can discuss that bartender's saga, The Trail of Beers.