In honour of Buck Owens try acting naturally the rest of your life. Drink a case of beer first though.
Sonja and I took the Hammer down by the river after breakfast. Last year's smattering of dead salmon have been picked off the beach by scavengers so the dog had nothing to do but run in the mud and splash in the slow moving river.
We went for a pub lunch afterwards to get out of the rain. I do not usually like going to the pub but Sonja insisted. I had a nut brown ale that was ok and an Alexander Keith's India Pale Ale that had me thinking how good it would taste in summer.
Pub patrons had returned to crying about the performance of the Canucks who lost to a team from motherfucking Alberta last night. The Dope City addiction to their DLAMF team is truly heroin like and every bit as sad as the world of country music feels without Buck Owens to kick around any more.
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