Last kitchen session I had was with Beer. 2007.08.17. Just us. A wonderful night repleat with beer, fine scotch, BBQd steaks with all the trimmins and a lovey pie I baked (at my house, I'll put on the dog fer guests) and we swapped geetars even tho I couldn't play or sing worth shit. Beer tells a different story, but I think the booze affected his hearing.

And, to cap it all off, I preformed a magic trick. Rubbed my cheek just under my ear and said, "Adrien, can you see a lump?" to which he answered yes. He watched in amazement as I massaged the lump from under my ear to just in front of the "hard part" of the cheek, at which time the area decribed began to swell until I looked like a lopsided chipmunk. A parotid stone had lodged in the duct and dammed the flow of saliva. Thus began 5 months of hell all because the doc didn't believe my story. F'in quack!

Didn't even get to eat much of my supper but that made more room for alcohol... which I was in need of.