I’m getting married in eight days, folks. Which means that this weekend is Bachelor Weekend. Where Rendar whisks me away to Portland, Maine. To commit all sorts of sins against the Elder Gods and New. I’m Opening The Bar Early, so that I can do it before I wade deep into the Atlantic Ocean never to be seen again. Hang here for a variety of reasons this weekend!

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Happy Memorial Day to ya’ll living within the Empire! As a child, most of my worldview was shaped by the World Wrestling Federation. And to be honest, I’m almost positive I’m better for it. And one thing I learned is that those who turn their back on their country are thick-jawed, dastardly pieces of shit. (Like Sgt. Slaughter.) Don’t be a Sgt. Slaughter. Give big ups to those who have served in a moment of fleeting, momentary clarity. And then go about your proper Imperial means of celebration. Charred animal flesh. Excessive drinking. Maybe a jingoistic, statistically inaccurate proclamation about Whatever You Really Like In America.

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