You might as well just say "serious mixologists disdain" because many do that like it's their job.

True fact. You know, like anyone with specialized knowledge or interests, especially on a topic that a lot of people think is lower-brow than the aficionados do.

I have been corrected. Jon says he's not a mixologist. He is an inebriation specialist. Also, that anyone who orders pitchers of Miller Lite cannot be a serious anything.

See! There were four of them, not two. You not only didn't know their names, you didn't even know they existed.

Ha! Now that I see them, I remember all of them. Although I couldn't tell you anything about the long-haired woman.

This whole Gus thing is stirring up my inner Trixie Belden. I would like to get to the bottom of it. I don't know why, I'm not terribly emotionally invested in Gus' or feel terribly betrayed. It's just a mystery that seems like it could be solved.

I feel this way too. Not enough to drive to Wisconsin, because I don't even know what I would do once I got there, but still...

I don't even know what I would do once I got there, but still...

Point and scream like Invasion of the Body Snatchers? Sounds like a plan.

Come on, somebody. Do eeet.

It does feel like something inherently resolvable.

We could have a F2F, Wisconsin!

We could break into Gus' house while he's out of town, and he'd have to call the sherrif to evict us!

Edit: Sheriff. Damn, it looks funny both ways now.

Oy vey. My agent is tweeting that I'm mean because I taunted her with my book idea and she can't stop thinking about the possibilities.

This is a good thing, right?

Whoever goes has to be ready to point and yell, "j'accuse!!"

I'm kinda "It's in the past," about finding all that stuff out. But I want that article corrected because it's out there now, and it links here.

But, you know, in reality, I'll just sit here and eat my soup in quiet rage.