So, I'm roaming around on the internet, minding my own business, checking my Sitemeter, reading various blogs, peeking at porn...you know, the usual; when, what to my surprise an email pops in from Fresh.
He's visiting friends in MO, and his flight got delayed, so he's stuck in Chicago for, like, eighteen hours.
Yipee! My wingman is in town for the night. His only jet-lagged request?
"Take me to The Ho."
So we go. And then he is gone, again.
Good to see you again, my friend.
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So what's the verdict? Has living in Scotland made him a better drinker or has he gone soft?
Wow, I open my windows and I hear church bells ringing and sheep bleating in the distance, you open yours and you here gun fire ringing out and snitches bleating. Not just miles apart.
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