If I were still living in Boca Raton, I wouldn’t have been able to drive up to Hollywood (the one in California, not the one south of Fort Lauderdale — I could drive to that one whenever I wanted, but why bother?) last night for drinks and sushi with Iowahawk, Iowahawk female-confrere-in-hotrodding, and Armed Liberal at Yamashiro. The former looks just like his picture, except they don’t allow dogs in the restaurant, so he had to smoke something else in his pipe. It seemed to be pretty high-octane stuff. It would actually explain much of his output. He also turns out to be both a gentleman and a scholar. No pictures, though — the pipe is very shy. Beer and old fashioneds were consumed, politics was discussed, last year’s electorate and the current leadership of the country were bewailed, other bloggists who had the effrontery not to attend were gossiped about brutally.

A good time was had by all. And by “all,” I mean of course, at least me. It’s at least conceivable that my drunken table-top fandango-kabuki may have put off my table-partners and some of the other patrons.

But it seemed like a great idea at the time. This morning, with the cat stomping around? Not so much.

[Update mid-morning]

I suppose that I should put out a standard disclaimer: The descriptions of some of the events and people in this post may have a truth value of somewhat less than unity. It is (sort of) an Iowahawk post, after all. Let’s just call it fake but accurate. If it’s not true it should be, and anyone who didn’t have a good time didn’t deserve to. That’s my story, and I’m sticking with it.