How-dee!! M. Bouffant here. As a result of the blog-o-sphere's incessant demand for content, this blog's proprietor (In the mind's eye I see him in a floor-length barman's apron, polishing a beer stein, then spitting on a dirty spot & scrubbing harder, but that tells you more about me than him.) has offered us the keys to his public house while he's taking a well-deserved week away from the struggle for truth, justice, & the American way.
Right now I got nothing, but I'm ahead of my usual schedule (Up before noon, PT. So excited, we couldn't sleep.) & will be prowling this system of tubes & the tubers who type on it for the raw meat we live on.
Speaking of which, a perusal of Whiskey FIre categories reveals "Bacon." If nothing else, I'll get the strip of bacon in a pancake experiment I've been threatening at my D-list web log going here. That's something to anticipate!
Sincere (& amazed) thanks to Thers, & I'll try to keep the lawsuits to a minimum.
P.S.: Especially grateful because this opportunity provides an excuse to avoid cleaning the bachelor bathroom. This item from 1991 should give a good idea of whom you're dealing w/ here.