Inconceivable.

Fortunately I have developed immunity to ibogaine.

Once upon a time, I worked as a poker dealer at the Excalibur. Our employee dining room was the bomb. Exhibit A: Vegetable of the day was mini corn dogs.

I got here as quickly as I could.

The aforementioned John H. Hatfield of Dunlap, Tennessee.

Jim Hathcock, bottle of whiskey in one hand and cigar in the other, posing for a photo not long before he was killed. He's also wearing his Sunday-go-to-meeting jacket over his coveralls. God I love this photo.

A great-great-grandfather from my mother's side. And I think we are related to the feuding Hatfields, but only distantly.

My great-great-grandfather's death notice. My great-grandfather was the one chopping down the tree when he was in his late teens. I never met either of them but have been told my great-grandpa never got over this, as you might imagine.

Moon setting this morning from Henderson, NV

I'm a sucker for peer pressure. Here's a QT with a little me.