So. Josh's book launch. We came, we read pretty words from crumpled up pieces of paper, some us played holy-crap-amazing music, Josh sold some books. A time was had. Or something.
You'll have to excuse me; I've had four beers, which at my age means that I should be put in restraints before I do something silly like mow the lawn at one in the morning wearing only my socks. Because Hazel needs more embarrassing pictures of me on the internet.
Anyway: going to bed, because work is only eight hours away, and I need my beauty sleep if I'm to deal with the Mount Royal Trophy Wives Club for another week, so here's a six-minute long commercial for Johnnie Walker whiskey, narrated by Robert Carlyle; no, dude, really. It's worth it:
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