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Hiya-
So, Halloween. Pumpkins. Pie. Cherry. Pop. Snap, Crackle. Candy Bar. BAR!! I apologize for the word association moment. I know, I know..Êmy thought processes are absolutely frickin' brilliant. I think all roads in my brain normally lead to bars, partying and, but of course, sex.
Let's try this again.. and I swear I'm not pre-thinking this out.. it's all streaming... so, where wereÊwe: BAR!!Ê gold. chain. gang. four. mat. mahony. sink. swim. beach. ball. BALLS!
Oy. Let's go back to BAR!! As in, it's time to go to Pubnight. All over again.
As for BALLS, well... i personally like them in a vice grip. Ricky, stop cringing. I wasn't talking about you. I'm talking about THE MAN. Actually, I'm thinking about the GOP. Oh yah, Karl Rove's balls squeezed between two Manhattan telephone books and Pat Robertson putting his hands together to pray.
Digression halted. This week, we're heading to an old haunt of ours: the Stoned Crow. Now, normally, we try to space out our jaunts to repeat bars. But, as a bunch of you know, the Crow isn't just any old bar. It's special. And it's super duper special since Crispy chose it as his birthday pubnight spot. Oh, and they have bar food again (the kitchenÊhad beenÊclosed for a short while).
So let's support our CRISPY. Let's go to a cool BAR. Let's talk about BALLS. Oy.
It's super-freaky, yow!
Cyn (Mike, Rebecca & Birthday Boy Crispy)