As I mentioned earlier my sister Tass, bro John, and
nephew Nathan are here for a bit of a family reunion.
Last night John and me, in what has become rather a
tradition for the reunions, had a "guys night out" and
went down to The Elk Tavern and proceeded to get totally
ripped. I mean, who am I to argue with tradition?
Here's John and me. I sort of look like some strange
mutant zombie in this one. But it's the pre-flash,
I swear it is. I really like John's new mustache and
Me in front of the White Hart sign at The Elk. When
I was a kid I read a book of short stories by Arthur C.
Clark entitled Tales from the White Hart. The sign
always reminds me of that.
I'll get to less seedy aspects of the reunion in the
BTW this is post #1300. At this point I feel a little like
Those Who Must Be Kept in The Queen of the Damned.
I may not be the oldest vampire around, but it does feel
like a very long run since I first started running this
blog. And today my body certainly does feel turned to
stone. Too much Jack Daniels. Preceded by too much