So my dad felt so bad about the repercussions of our beer talk this afternoon that he had a couple of beers for dinner. I would have been terribly offended but I really admired his chutzpah. I mean this is right out of the Seaweed Playbook - I'm sorry, I'm never going to do it again . . . etc etc all while I'm popping a beer and lifting your wallet and stealing your weed. I wanted to drink. I was not done drinking. Nothing - and I mean nothing - was going to get in the way of my drinking. You were simply not worth it. I didn't care who you were - you were not worth it.
Have GOT to love people who drink alcoholically.
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