I just returned from a beer-up at the Two Bells with Messrs. Harpel and Elope.

We had a pleasant evening in which I learned that “no one cares about my sandwich,” notwithstanding the fact of my munching Crab Louie whilst my compadres consumed burgerfleisch. Kaycee Nicole was likened to A Rape in Cyberspace.

Tom regaled us with tales of his interesting, absent father, the key image of which is said progenitor presenting the preadolescent Tom with a bag of gold coins, and Dan reminded me of one of the reasons to avoid drinking gallons of instant ice tea.

On the way home, we noticed that half of the Sit-and-Spin is now the interesting-looking Hideaway, filled to the brim with the bicycle courier contingent. We actually walked Dan nearly all the way to the top of the Hill, and I was flabberghasted at the variety and quantity of activity in the streets we passed. My neighborhood is a hive of activity.