taken at my dad's funeral, held as a private event at his favorite barIt's hard to be sad when your weekend involves sifting cremains into a scotch bottle with a kitchen funnel, drinking scotch and beer on a boat in the Gulf of Mexico at 9 a.m., seeing friends and family that you haven't seen in years, eating the best seafood available anywhere in the world (for real) and cleaning up puke (not mine) in the car after the "funeral."
The Vieaus, it's how we roll.
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