Taxes and beer

We went to the bar for beer before meeting Marie to do our taxes. She has wicker furniture, hard wood floors, rag rugs, and a cat named Nick who chases his shadow or his tail. You can't get that at H&R Block.

We went back to the bar after we got the bad news. It was kid's night at Patrick's so it was nerve-wracking until about 8. We ran into Kate and talked about our collective cynicism about work, politics, life and everything else until we left at 8:30. It was a long night by old people's standards. Kate's going to see Barak Obama at the Target Center on Saturday. I don't care. I can't believe he's any different than any of the rest of them. I'll vote for Hillary or nobody.

We had a few good laughs about the Super Bowl XLII. Extra large II. I said they should have little snapshots of the athletes as they appear today in the corner to show that they are not Super Human. Joe Namath for example. He was so cute in 1968 but Regis says he has gotten long in the tooth.

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