241: Magic St.Patrick's Day Pants

Saturday afternoon, I found myself out with the outlaws.
I was sitting next to my grandmother in-law who is a really sweet lady, and over the years we have enjoyed a few frothy beverages together. She is often interested in what I am drinking, and I’m always happy to share what I’m drinking. Saturday this trend continued.
She was drinking this:

I was drinking this: With a wedge of lime. I like to think of it as the poor man’s corona. But I digress.
Grandma was interested in what I was drinking, so I offered her a sip. She took a little swig. And then held the bottle in her hand for a second.

She looks at me and says, “your beer weighs more than mine..”

I smiled and said, “that’s because you’re drinking lite beer!”
She laughed and proceeded to Karate Chop me across the chest.

I responded, “So that’s where Monkey wife learned the chest chop !"

I did the Tuesday Night Smack down ride for the first time this year. Very ouchie.

Doc had a sweet Irish Jersey:

I suffered my guts out all night. Threw up a little of the corn beef and cabbage I had for lunch. That was no good.

It was that rarest, of rare occasion when I could wear my Magic St. Patrick's day pants, which of course make everything alright...

respect.

fatmarc