Sometimes life is easy. Othertimes, less so.

Disclaimer: The water in Cape Breton, Nova Scotia (that's New Scotland), Canada (pronounce it like looks like except with a K) must have something incredibly potent in it. I have been unable to determine whether it is a hallucinogen, carcinogenic (but who really cares, everyone smokes out here anyway - 'cept for ni the pink lunged pussy), tiny leprechauns sent from Ireland to fuck with us for messing with their alcoholic schtick (but that may just be an argument for the hallucinogens) or if some smart-ass programmer kid working on a philosophy degree (don't worry, I laughed at him too) re-routed our tap water to the brewery in Halifax (but honestly, I don't think he would be able to manage the menial labour, he probably hired some poor Newfie [no I take it back, no Newfie deserves an adjective] for him) for the always patriotic (not like those traitor Molson fucks, just like you deserve theantix) Alexander Keiths Pale Ale (which is far more refreshing than ni's idea of a double gin and tonic, which in reality is just a glass full of gin that in it he spit [take that Winston, try and out drink us.])

Also, I registered earlier my professional opinion that I should have been restrained as soon as I got here (dropped the ball on the handcuffs, didn't you ni?)

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