Going out is getting old

Becca and I went out with some friends the other night (the fabulous Dave and Tracy). It was really nice. We split a babysitter and went up to the 28/65 Brewhouse, a newish place in St. Charles that has a LOT of different draft beers.

We had some dinner (my burger was "good") and some beers (my find was the new O'Fallon Rager Red) and then went back to the game room. We played some darts, and some shuffle board (I somehow managed to lose every game I participated in).

Somewhere in the middle of all that we discovered that the video jukebox was also a photo booth. For somewhere between a quarter and a dollar, we were able to take a picture of ourselves and even filter it and add some kittens before posting it directly to Facebook. The photo bombing was free.

Turns out this is 40.

There are a couple of points in your life when you realize you're getting older. Wearing dark socks and sandals to the grocery store is one of them. Having your own "get off of my lawn" moment is one of them. And having a kitten-framed picture on Facebook make your Saturday night is definitely one of them.

And yes, we have already made plans for our next visit.

Apocalypse Averted. Probably.

As you may have heard, the world was meant to end today.

Or sometime back in June. Or possibly next week. At this point it's all a little fuzzy.

As I'm sure you've all heard, the Mayan calendar ran out of gas today. Most have dismissed these claims. None of those people, however, saw the destruction rained down on my property last night.

Damage montage.

For those of you counting at home, I lost some siding (or fascia, or soffit, or whatever - I'm not a doctor), some Christmas lights, and the table on my deck absolutely exploded (an hour of Shop-Vacing barely made a dent in the mess).

In memory of my losses, and as a means to put off cleaning them up until after the world was safe, the family and I decided to hold a Mayan Apocalypse party. We ate Doritos  made tacos, invented the first ever Kiddie-Mayan-Rita and had hot cocoa for desert. It was practically pre-colonial Mexico at my house.

Or at least it seemed like it after the missus and I had a few Corona Lights.

Not pictured: Authentic Mayan Doritos (tm).

See you all tomorrow. Hopefully.