I wrote this and it did not post. Amos... youse brought Busch... = Bud, no?
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#3... the peak is in the front so I have no idea what you are on about.

#4... they are Yanks and that's what they drink. Take it up with them. Now, I drink Canuck Bud and that is what you see in the pic. What you don't see is the Yank Bud they arrived with. But, note the Camel ciggie box next to the Bud. That there really makes me cringe. Smelled like Camels. But the banter! The laughter! The stories! The interaction! The tunes! Why, I even was able to sing the last line of each verse of a song with his nibs and play a wee bit of Rhan as the Bud dampened the pain and the trepidation. It was a glorious eve which I shall never forget... I haven't as much as touched the pack of camels or the ashtray of hardly smoked butts to this day. Each time I note these as I walk by, I remember, and I smile. Just as I note the two glasses on my dining room table which have never been touched since Beer was here and played my guitar for the last time before I sold it. Beer brought these special tumbler memento glasses with him, poured fine Scotch and made me partake against my will. We played and sang... my last time before the arthritis took it's terrible toll.

Hmmmm... in me cups. Feeling sorry perhaps. But, fact is, them there Bud drinkin Yanks kinda made my year in a way. It was certainly a highlight. No doubt. I must tell yas, I told A I could not accept his company, his visit, because of this and that. His answer was, essentially, "Fuck you. I will visit." Thanks Amos.

Oh, yeah. Rap. I gave you the same shit but there was no way I was gonna let you visit with yer Missus in tow. I mean, Amos' cousin took his shoes off when he came in my house. I said he should keep his shoes on. Seriously, not a good idea to go bare feet INSIDE my house. Imagine allowing a proper lady in my bachelor pad (sty)? And your better half too? Tsk tsk! I would be remiss!