Saturday, August 13, 2011

Something Wicked

Ryan and Jackson and I made an early run out to Roselle today, bailing completely on a standing agreement with a some others for a nightcap (some of us, it seems, have jobs?). Then this black storm of death came at us from the west, heaving mightily into view before sobbing upon us like a heartbroken sow. The winds did whip. The kids did scurry. And we packed it in and made for the Portillos in Bloomingdale.

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