Rule #1: Never let a good man (or woman) drink alone.
Speaking of the sauce, as soon as we get back from Minneapolis on Sunday, we are going straight from the Terminal to the Myopic Xmas Bash 2005, one of our favorite parties of the year. Maker's! Indian Food! Maker's! Blue Moon! Cake! Maker's! Blue Moon! Maker's! Cards! Willie's homegrown THC bomb! Maker's! Cab ride home! Blurg!
We feel like we can celebrate a little six month anniversary today, give or take a few weeks. Count 'em: 6 months without a sniff of the ol' Bolivian Marching Powder. We were getting kinda wrong on that shit for a while. We haven't missed it. We haven't missed the lack of sleep, the crunchy boogers, the smoking hole in our heads the morning after doing the larger portion of a $40 bag, the fake elation, the bathroom bonding with strangers, the party turned vampire cold, the hysteria of more more moremoremoremore.