I live in West Richland, Washington. Home of... not much. Hogs and Dogs. And no, I'm not talking about the women. Hogs and Dogs is a late spring tradition of motorcycles, free food, and music in the park. One night a year. Aside from the annual Veteran's Day Parade, it's the high point of our year out here.
I have a family, I have a job, I have 2 cats, and I have a 35 year old trailer and a 27 year old car. Livin' large in the wilds of Washington, huh?
Oh! You know how you can tell we live in Washington? There are seven espresso stands within three miles of my house. We northwesterners cannot be expected to go for long without our venti quad-shot, half-caf, skinny caramel mocha no-whip add cinnamon latte, and espresso shops are conveniently located to avoid such an unthinkable possibility. There are, in fact, three of these places within less than two miles of my front door. We West Richlanders have our priorities straight, by cracky. We don't have a single doctor or emergency clinic within five miles, but we can get espresso when we need it.
So, this is introductory. I'll wax poetic, I'll scathe, I'll pontificate and vacillate and castigate at length. Later.
