Okay, we’re not perfect. Sometimes we have a beer or two too many and things happen that we regret. Sometimes the morning after sucks ass. We wake up, the smoke has cleared, and however awesome we thought we were the night before, it turns out we screwed the pooch. And now we’re sore, really sore, in our secret spots, and we’re sorry. We’re sore and we’re sorry. Recently one such event happened in the Surly Camp. We woke up one morning after a night of beer, brown liquor, fancy shirts and alleyway dancing dressed as giant stuffed bears, and this…
