Arrogant Bastard Ale
Behind the dark bug-eye sunglasses lurked a face, young or old, I don’t know. But there was a deep world-weary sigh every time she heard the price of a lamp or a pan or a book at the yard sale.
It was if life itself had betrayed her once more. “How? How? How could this lamp I so desire be $15?” her sigh seemed to say.
“Would you take seven?” is what she actually said. Read the rest of this entry »