My last visit to the local

The Fredericksburg Brewing Company is my local brewpub.  Yeah they only have five beers on tap, and no guest taps, but they make good beer, and it's a fun place to hang out. When I arrived the Monday after New Years Day, I was informed that there were only 800 gallons of Hoppy Holidaze left. (I'm on Untapped.com, by the way. Look for Hiikeeba.) I promised to do as much as I could to help them free up a serving tank. Unfortunately I am only one man.

As I was finishing my last beer on the gloomy Monday afternoon, to very--let me repeat--very attractive women sat at the bar to my left.  One was a smoking hot blonde with long curly hair, long fingernails, and gorgeous clothes.  The other was a hot brunette with a short hair cut, long thing fingers, and wearing, well, man clothes: jeans, a t-shirt and a blue button down shirt that was unbuttoned.  The hot blonde was a very tactile person, constantly touching the brunette, sliding her hand between her legs, caressing her back, kissing her. . .  Thank God I have good peripheral vision.

As I paid my bill, I pondered the injustice of it all.  Here I was, a fat, but still handsome man (My mom told me so, if you must know.), and here are two gals I would be happy to squire about town, but who were, for all intents and purposes, off the market.

A dozen and a half years ago, I thought I could write songs.  One of them was inspired by the Moe Bandy and Joe Stampley albums that I loved.  It was about two guys who pick up a couple of girls at a honky tonk, and the girls climb in the back seat and start making out.  One line (Frankly, the only line I can remember) was, "What a waste of a good back seat."

I don't care about someone's sexual orientation.  I only care about how their sexual orientation affects me.  Yes, I am that selfish.