Fine, stay here and
rot keep discussing beer and women
I'll be in the G&O, swamped by the glitz and glamor of the biggest thong fest of the year, featuring buff, oiled up, shaved down, near-naked ivory and ebony mountains of muscle.
Sometimes I swear I can smell the pro-tan and the baby oil through the screen if I stare at some of the backstage pics of the athletes pumping up intensely enough.
Your loss.