What else do you do the morning after staying up all night working up an appetite but go out for beer and chips and more adventures. The beer was nice, the chef was the grumpiest chef in the world and the chips were not nice, as you can see. We spied Logface in the wood pile and were going to take him home but he looked like his taste buds were primitive enough that he might enjoy the chips. Christine fed Logface the chips while we continued to talk and giggle.
Shortly after, we caught a bus with a nice number and somehow made it back home... but that's an adventure for another time.
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Logface looks quite happy with the chips.
Log.. Log..
It's big
It's heavy
It's wood...
"One day my log will have something to say about this..."
"My log does not judge..."
Poor old Logface. That was probably his last supper. He's probably just scattered ashes now.
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