One of my favorite people in the world is on her way to visit me this weekend. Remember Mojo? The tall one? Well as I write this, she's in her car driving from Pittsburgh to Philadelphia for the weekend. And remember how the last time Mojo and I were left to our own devices we couldn't walk straight for three days and I kept running into walls and putting my clothes on inside out because blah blah blah and whiskey? So it's only fitting that Mojo's visit falls on the final weekend of Philly Beer Week which also happens to be the weekend before St. Patrick's Day which also happens to be our favorite holiday to celebrate together like that one time when we had car bombs for breakfast and ended our heady celebrations a whopping 16 hours and a couple of bad decisions later.
Visits with Mojo get me pretty amped up. Kind of like drinking heavily when you're heavily medicated which I would have no idea about but I'm sure it's a trip. And I think it's kind of telling that this morning B told me he won't be home from work until 7 tonight, by which point he expects Mojo and I will already be drunk.