That’s right. I'm writing this Saturday afternoon, but it's still Friday night in my head…
Yes, things have come to dire straits for the people who smoke when they drink.
Yet we stubbornly press on in our insistence that nothing goes quite so well with a beer as a cigarette, knowing full well that it’s below zero outside.
We are determined not to let common sense or freezing flesh stop us from polluting ourselves in the fashion of our own choosing.
Hey, said Vin (aka Our Brit). Why don’t we all rent a room, everyone pile in, and we’ll smoke as many fags as we like!
Hey, I said. What you do in a room you’ve paid for is up to you, but I’ll stick with cigarettes.
(This is what passes for humor when the goodwill – and the beer – is flowing.)
So in a move that has surprised no one, the completely sincere and mostly drunk at the 331 Friday night decided that the best thing to do when faced with overwhelming governmental oversight and a number of beers is to make plans to check into a hotel in Wisconsin – land of the lawless – and talk, laugh, drink, and smoke ourselves silly.
Of course it’s bad for you! Of course we exaggerate! For cryin’ out loud, people, we’ve been drinking!
And yet there you have it. The Boy’s band will be playing in Wisconsin in just a couple weeks and we are thinking that the optimal use of our time/brain cells/money would be to check into a casino hotel and see what kind of damage we can do.
Will we really do it? That remains to be seen; but if we do, I just may have to take pictures. They know who they’re dealing with!
They see me taking notes!