Well, wifey is off with the kids to visit an aunt and the cousins. So far this evening, I have taken advantage of the jacuzzi, a tall glass of gin (with a splash of tonic water,) 25 channels of college football, and a Macanudo... and I'm about to go put a smoked kielbasa on the grill. Call it the aging process if you want, but I'm finding it harder and harder to believe that there was once a time when I actually looked forward to going out and walking blocks to one bar after another, fighting through various rugby scrums to get a bartender's attention, in order to get drunk enough to end the night with some faceless skank who would forever be known as "that phone number in my pocket with no name attached."
If this is boring, then I like boring.
"You fought with Captain Reynolds in the war?"
"I fought with a lot of people in the war."
"And your husband?"
"I fight with him sometimes, too."