Update 5 October, 2020:

Update 26 September, 2020:

And they tell two friends...

Update September 21, 2020: WE want those that supplant too the succumbing giving to the Dwarves instead of Dwarfs to recognize semantics. The same being so relax Tolkien men and women. Too the woman once spelled too the man of the hour's name wrong. Who is that?

Update 28 May, 2020: To avoid the certain intrusion of the temperance crowd's thought I am implying getting black out drunk and out of control I struck the "they get wasted" text below. The point is we all get together and toast as the many Europeans do every evening to laugh and celebrate living. Salud! Skoal! Imagine that? Not me being the peice of shit drunk/drug addict? How about it? Though I did learn during my state sponsored DWI rehabilitation counseling that the state of North Carolina defines me the "European styled alcoholic". Put that in your pipe and smoke it and I'll pop my first brew of the day. Cheers!


Here's my Hobbit rewrite for the modern age.

Instead of dwarfs we find an assemblage of Party Smurfs.

Instead of Bilbo Baggins the Party Smurfs travel with Kitty Licks.

When they happen upon the immense treasure they plan the party of the century.

Instead of unnecessary waste of life, they get wasted, playing together day after day.

Everyone gets paid. Well.

When the fortune is spent, no one cares.

No one is in need. Relationships exist.

Everyone rests without worry.

After all.

Tonight is the party.

Tomorrow is another day.