Went to Mr. Ridge's DIV today. Beautiful day with wonderful folks; Mr. Ridge himself was there.

Hung out with SFJoe, sipped French whites, ate fine food and had a terrific time, until the Canadian Wine Wankers showed up.

Then all hell broke loose.

I know these people, and they're trouble. Canadian Cabmonger, Phylloxera Boy, Mr. Flippy and Corky are nothing but a bad accident looking for a place to happen.

My first clue that they were on premises was hearing that all too familiar voice of the Cabmonger exclaiming, "Bas-tahr-dao!"

I froze in place, hoping there was some mistake, but such was not to be. Up he comes, a swarthy Brit who claims to be Canadian due to the national shame regarding the English soccer team's continued failure in the World Cup competitions. I did my best to be civil, but these tasters are too much.

They waltzed in smoking big cheap cigars, fouling everyone's air. They went right for the tasting areas, grabbing bottles and passing them around like street corner winos.

The trouble really started when Phyloxera Boy and Mr. Flippy instigated a food fight with the Italian sausage and the polenta. Food was flying here, there and everywhere. Others joined in, and things got ugly.

Oh the humanity...

We ducked out as quickly as we could. We knew this would end up badly.

As we were flying down Monte Christo Lane, we saw several Police vehicles heading up the mountain.

I fear what may have taken place...

The Director is still unhappy with my display on the evening previous, but I located a cot in Bree's storage area and set it up in the kennel. The Dobermans are fine animals, and have accepted me completely.

More later,

B