(print from Mae Chevrette)
What’s got great weather, patio-approved meals, heavy pours, a cuddly lab, and all the “OMG, I may have just peed my pants” laughter you can handle? My best friend’s house at the beach, that’s what. I’m headed there this afternoon, and in t-minus four hours I’ll have traded in my keyboard for a cocktail. Or ten. I don’t know about you, but the last few weeks have been a real bitch up in here. (Did I tell you I needed a shot in my eyeball?? Uh, what dude?) But it’s nothing a little best-friend-time-on-the-deck can’t heal. And yes, I’m talking about my best friend the person, not the frosty brew. Though the brew is a close second.
Anyway, I’m sorry I can’t stick you in my suitcase, but I promise to toast to you tonight. Though, I hope you don't mind if I don't pour any out for the homies, because really, that’s just irresponsible drinking. And that’s no fun for anyone.
Happy weekend, Homies. See you Monday!