About the picture (or, Why Scrabble is a blood-sport)

On Friday night, my sweet friend JBot landed at my place for a rousing game of Scrabble. After an all-out battle that involved some broken teeth, a busted lamp and A LOT of name calling, the official score was tallied. I won.




Ok, so about the picture. There may have been some rum and gin involved. Although it looked really good when we took it, I can see now that perhaps our eyes were being manipulated by a liquid substance. The board, though, was a masterpiece:




Stupid rum and gin.

It was obvious by the end of the night that even the dog was affected by the fumes...




But the most important thing? I won. I WON. Rematch at 8, 9 central.