Beth and I are off to the outlands tonight, far off into the wilds of Pomona. Jim, the butcher of Meat of the Matter is having a par-tay tonight — his “Increasingly Annual February Frolic” — and he’s invited us because he’s slumming to guarantee a high class type shindig.

I was going to say some really witty and entertaining things about this, but I swore to myself that I wouldn’t make this entry just a long collection of jokes about Pomona and cows and meth labs and etc. Consequently, I’m tapped out. Sorry.

I’m looking forward to meeting Jim, though. We irritable males have to stick together.