He wouldn’t have made it so freakin’ easy.

Seriously though, it’s amazing how a place like lower Manhattan, that you know relatively well while sober, turns into the friggin’ forests of Narnia with low fog and no visibility after sampling a couple “Highland” and “Lowland” Scottish whiskeys on Stone St. I had no idea where I was…for hours. It may as well have been Neptune.

My apologies.

Here’s something funny to make up for it:

(language/content warning)

Also, if you haven’t already, check out the Resistance. It’s basically six great bloggers and me. I’m the comic relief and no, I have no illusions that you’re laughing with me. I can live with that.

Russ