So so so much to tell and so little motivation to perambulate the edges of idiom; to tickle my dialect like a greased Kardashian, to plot the demise of the Democratic party via the Keystone Pipeline, to beg the question of which beer to dump into my failing liver...
But, alas, twas a week of transition and revery, and, aside from the Death-by-Polar-Vortex that has settled in upon the vast majority of the North American continent, a saturnalia of sickness was enjoyed by the Princess Himself in the form of a serious beer-nerdfest Monday night, followed by the shenanigans of Peelander Z, then a vainglorious 3 days in a row off of work, culminating in some mt. bikeyness at the Rozarks and Roanoke...
...even found time for an 8Lumens Bored Meeting at the Bier Station, wherein multiple UN treaties were violated and I single-handedly made sure that next spring's barley and malt harvest will be a roaring success.
...many thanks to the PoisonPeacock for sharing this gem.
...and, I finally finished the first season of True Detective....good Gawd.
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