The only downside to my new gig is that I lose a lot of social interaction. And, if you know me, you know that a good part of my life-fuel comes from the people I call friends.
So, Friday night some old friends and I sat around on my back deck with a few beers, the guitars, and a lotta laughs.
Then G-Rob shows up with the moonshine and what I shudder to recognize as an omen.
It actually was the best squeezins I'd ever had. Nonetheless, when I went to clean up the next day, I spied an unfinished shot.
Normally, bugs don't bug me, but this one did. That's because a Carolina mosquito had nose-dived in for a drink, got drunk, and drowned.
Actually, the only reason it bugs me is the shot glass it died in.
Now, if that's not a bad omen, I don't know what is.
When I looked closer, I discovered the bug had a look in his eye like I expect to when I sit down on Friday and Saturday.
Dead buggy money.
Damn it.