January 26, 2012
A Seemly Metaphor
This is all that remains of my ancestral stomping grounds outside of Glasgow:
Ruins. What was a Roman garrison in 80 AD and a castle in 1175 is pretty much an unstable barbecue pit now.
However, with a tarp or two, some paint, and some single malt, I might be able to make a go of this. As long as I can poach the Queen's deer.
Oh! Just. . . if you are really in Scotland I am really jealous. *sigh*
Posted by: Joan of Argghh! at January 26, 2012 10:20 PMNice looking ruins. I myself am a ruin, so I ought to know, I've followed a few!
Posted by: Mike James at January 26, 2012 10:43 PMI've dated a few.
Posted by: Randy Rager at January 26, 2012 11:04 PM2nd law of thermodynamics
Everything falls apart
including us
Posted by: JohnB at January 28, 2012 7:20 AMYou bring the malt, and I'll bring the pig.
Posted by: Yabu at January 28, 2012 7:20 AMThat is very cool. Probably literally as well as figuratively. Might make for chilly camping. But what a setting!
TARP?! You ain't gettin' no dang TARP! Now get to roastin' pigs.
Dang welfare chiselin' banks...
Posted by: Cappy at January 29, 2012 7:29 PM80 AD, huh? Your wifes clit is almost that old. Almost.
Posted by: Predalien at February 1, 2012 4:01 AMIf you want to poach the Queen's deer, better bring a big-ass pot and a whole lotta boiling water.
Posted by: Elisson at February 1, 2012 9:49 AMFuck the Queen!
Posted by: Casca at February 9, 2012 9:08 PM