Hope and I went to see Nick Swardson play at the Fillmore on Saturday.  We had some good laughs.  We went to the casino afterward, where I proceeded to donate some of my hard-earned money to a nice gentleman in the poker parlor.  Fucking aces.

But I'm not even on topic here.  Back at the show, Hope had managed to get us some pretty sweet seats, about four rows from the stage.  We were seated early, and the crowd filled in around us.  A couple of ladies sat in front of us, the one in particular wearing low-cut jeans.  A good thing, you might think, depending on what way you swing?  Not when you have to peer down her crack every time you reach for your beverage during the show.