Finally somebody understands me Tom Smith

This is what I have been trying to say.  But I can beat that, and so can you.  You just have to go the giant water park on the Vegas strip in the dead of August.  You will learn things you did not want to know.  That bikinis do come in XXXXL.  That Norbit’s wife comes in every color.  That bangers like water parks, and it’s a good idea to let them cut the line.  That when everyone in the mob is covered in sun tan oil, and crowd together, you kind of a massive slithery effect, like a big snake pit.  And remember, you are in the water with these people.  They are having trouble keeping the water as cold as it should be.  It is sort of icky, lukewarm.  It gets into your mouth.  And the truly horrible thing is, it is fun, in a sort of disgusting way.  They have rides that would have to be illegal anywhere else, except maybe an Indian casino somewhere.  A waterslide 10 stories high where you reach speeds of maybe 50 mph.  Kids look over the edge and cry, and climb back down.  Grown men say “Ah aint goin down dat ting.”  More tattoos and piercings than in a 1964 National Geographic.  You think, I will do this, but when I’m done, I want a quadruple scotch and 1500 mg of Cipro.  What a great country.

Hey, I notice Tamara also appreciates the miracle that is Stone Brewing, a product of my very own San Diego, though sometimes hard to find even around here.  A lady of discernment, and well armed too.