Oh Stop

You can all stop complaining that I haven't posted in a while. Especially dearest Ellie, who should be concentrating on the fact that today she graduated from the Masters Degree program at her school and it is also her boyfriend, The Locksmith's birthday.

I feel so sorry from The Locksmith, as normally one's birthday is an "exciting" day (if you aren't married), but this year, he has to deal with it being all about her.

Welcome to my world.

As you have all already guessed, I was out of town for a couple days this week. I was once again in glorious Hudson, MA for a little shindig get together for the people who will ultimately be blamed for the failure of my project to make it to market by a certain date. I was a last-minute addition to the invite list, as I'm officially not important enough to take the blame, but everyone is pretty much accepting of the fact that I'll be in the center of the blame circle when it gets drawn regardless of my official duties, so I might as well get to know the others who will be going down with the ship, too.

Though it remains a distinct possibility that we'll actually be successful. Don't quote me on that. There's nothing quite so motivating as the prospects of having your whole site shut down if you fail.

We had quite a fortuitous stroke of luck while in Hudson. The project manager decided to take us all out for a fine dinner at a restaurant that was just 1/4 mile from a cigar club. Last time I was in town, I had discovered this cigar club by accident whilst looking for some place to eat dinner, but I had been unable to convince WoodyWoody to go there, as he's much more interested in drinking than in smoking. I happened to mention this at the dinner table, and I discovered that a fellow I hardly know was also a man who enjoys the stooges. We managed to round up two other dudes, and we hit the place after dinner.

Holy smokes, the drinks were expensive there. $8.50. I enjoyed an Onyx, which I had never had before. The two non-cigar dudes each had Ashtons, based on my recommendation, as Ashtons are great smokes, though perhaps not quite as great husbands.

The remainder of the trip was uneventful, save for the fact that the next night we ended up at the local pub that has 140 beers on tap, all of them bad. I had a One Eared Monkey, and it tasted like Smucker's Raspberry Jam, only not as good. Damn, that was a horrible beer. I don't know why I keep tying new beers at this place. Everything, everything you haven't heard of sucks. It's like they've scoured the globe for the best deals on crappy beer.

We went "window shopping" for hot tubs today. I'll let y'all guess how that turned out.