As I have discussed on several occasions with friends, guys naturally learn icky stuff. Who can hock a loogie the furthest? Who can most legibly write one's name in the snow? Who can flamethrow lit flatulence the furthest?
One of my fondest childhood memories is waking up on an early weekend morning to the aroma of frying bacon, the sound of the toaster popping up crunchy slices, and the intoxicating scent of percolating coffee.
You know how you see or meet someone (or several someones) and you just “click” right away? Well, that’s how it was for me and my wine group one Saturday at Marché Bacchus when Dick and Jarlene visited for the first time.