I’m no wine connoisseur, but I do like wine. I especially like how it comes in those handy single-serving containers.

Michigan is known these days for its craft-brewing scene – Bell’s, Founders’, New Holland, Dark Horse, and dozens of less famous locals – but it also has a respectable wine-making community, with two nationally recognized wine-growing regions (Fenn Valley and Leelanau Peninsula). And conveniently, they make not only some fine award-winning wines, but also a nice supply of good affordable ones. Those are the ones I usually drink. Unless there’s something on sale.

In my experience, when you’re drunk to the point that you have trouble opening the next bottle, that’s a good sign that you’ve had enough. It’s also a good sign that you’re probably going to keep drinking more.

I’m pretty sure there’s a line between masochism and self-harm. I’m not as sure where it is.

One of the first Tales posted in this series was “BDSM 101“, about Jason’s early attempts to indulge his interest in this family of kinks, and concluding that it just didn’t work to do it alone. Lessons learned, eh?