One bourbon, one scotch, one beer

 You would have fun.

The boomers are out in force, a couple emptying their bar before a move, so the whiskey flows like a river. And the weed is endless. 

I have my speaker out in the courtyard, a place where we boomers congregate, drink, smoke, and gossip. We old people like to talk our shit when we're shitfaced, high, and not inclined to apply the brakes to our mouths or our appetites. With that being said, I hesitate to write any more. My music is out there either annoying them or making them clap along and I'm loath to write anything here that's compromised by this level of intoxication. 

Back to the party, wish you were here. I know you'd have everyone cracking up.

I love you.