Press clippings, hate mail, prohibitionists, my mom, various bars that have banned us, various bars that we have banned, that guy next door with the uptight girlfriend who always calls the cops on us and so on. That all goes here. But it ain't here yet because I just spent all my free time trying to remember the name of the G-MILF on "Who's The Boss" (Mona, as it turns out). Sorry, Portland, I fucked up.

(note to the web geek: hey, I figured out your password. You owe me a bottle of Bushmills! See? I can make web pages too!

-D

ps- put a big rant here about how much hipsters suck. And try really really hard to pretend you are not a hipster, you hipster douchenozzle.

pss- put an even bigger rant here about how much the stereotypical MTV Spring Break/frat boy/Barracuda Lounge/45-degree-hat-wearing/Abercrombie people suck, and how funny it is that they never, ever, ever, actually think I am talking about them even if I use their name and point to them while saying "those douchey bridge-and-tunnel people."

psss- Isn't your brother one of those guys? We should screw with him.

pssss- But first, pay up. Bushmills. A real bottle. You gave me an airplane bottle the last time I won a bet and I still have not gotten around to the grisly, brutal murder I had planned for you, so don't push me. )