We get a DNF for the second day in a row thanks to whatever death-flu is currently pouring through our system. Apologies from our immune system–we’re heading to the doctor, who hopefully will tell us what we want to hear, and prescribe eight fingers of bourbon and some honey for what ails us. If it worked for Jeremiah Johnson, it’s got to work for us, right?


If whiskey can’t cure it, then there’s no cure.