Gone Drinkin'

My weekend will be spent on an island, on the ocean, behind Martinique beach on the eastern shore of Nova Scotia. The usuals will all be there - as will the sun apparently - in honour of the pending marriage of another close friend, who will be there too. And oh how the alcohol will flow - like great deliciously toxic rivers, into the waiting mouths of us, the unshaven and sunburned. For at least two days there will be no home renos carried out, no exercise, no stressed banking, and little coherent thought or conversation. God bless us all - and give us iron stomachs - for we are the thirty-something man-child kings of that particular inlet, on this particular weekend. Huzzah!

(Typed at work, twitching to leave)