It is summer. I take off my shirt. I lurch into the Scaffie for an evening sail. In the process it would appear that I wrenched off my Raybans as I find only the string things that attached them to my person. Oh dear. Maybe I will find the in Davey Jone’s Locker tomorrow.
The wind is perfect, the weather is hot, it is the end of a very satisfying week like, you know, you know, kinda, workwise.
I decapsule a bottle of beer as what had been left behind post party.
I look at it accidentally and discover that it had been brewed in Wisconsin. Wisconsin! I am surging over the reef in Onna son on a hot Okinawan evening, drinking beer made in Wisconsin.
Guess the name of the beer? Leinenkugel! Germans in America now in Okinawa!
Hey, Politicians leave those immigrants alone.
Wonderful evening and I have the whole weekend ahead!