SwimOdin

I was last at my grandmama’s house on Thanksgiving 2018. My great grandmother died in 1994.

Quizno's

There's a brewery a few blocks from my house that brews really great beers. They made an Order of the Owl beer (no relation to the ASMB, unfortunately)

They're sneaky. You've probably had a beer. You know how it is. You can drink beers (plural) and maybe get a buzz, maybe? It's the alternative to liquor, right? Less drunky drunk. Well fuckin'... High gravity beers go down like a regular beer. And you have two, maybe three. And then it's like WHAT. HOW DID I GET HERE? MY FACE, I CAN'T FEEL IT.

Take it to underpants

Are the majority of people wearing masks where you all live? It's around 90% in Atlanta, which is more than I could've hoped for.

It's been a stressful year. I have much more white in my beard now. I was furloughed for a little part of the year and experimented in alcoholism. I'm also a grandfather.

Free-to-play Breath of the Wild clone that's pretty good. That's the thread.

I was twenty, now I'm almost fourty.

Untie!

This about not jacking off or nah

I'm so freaked out by that backyard. It looks almost literally the same as mine. Do we live in the same neighborhood?

What have we done

The port was alive with strange faces. It was dawn by the time he found an old salt willing to part with a vessel for what bullion he had left, a cutter with a Bermuda rig called the Merciful, the sails ragged and ripped, its compass cracked, its rotten hull just barely able to cut the breakers. But it would be enough to make his escape. It wasn't for another hour, when he was a mile from the docks, that his thoughts turned back to her, he imagined her alone. By then, she would have searched the house and found it empty. She had suspected it all along, and now she knew, he was a coward. A coward dressed in the uniform of a brave man. Brave enough to cross two oceans and a continent to find her, to fight countless enemies, and yet, in the end he was terrified. Terrified of her. To lie beside her, to be comforted by her as he wept, to show her he was small, for her to know that and touch his cheek and whisper words softly into his ear, all of that was a nightmare. All he knew to do was run. But now, here, he was free. He took a deep breath of the air, tasting the salt on his tongue and closed his eyes, leaning into the spray as the Merciful picked up speed and sailed for the horizon. He was alone and all was well, he did not have her and he did not want her, he had this, and this was enough. Always, he would have the sea.

Little blurry, but a cute shot I got of the grandson the other day