Just what is it with the booze at The Matador? Every time I have even a single shot of their the “vodka” — and I do use the term vodka very loosely when referring to what the little old lady with the duffel bag of mickey bottles in the back corner sells — I always end up in some kind of pain the next day. I still have a dull ache in the back of my head and I have errands to run today.
Gulping down bootleg liquor is the price you must pay if you want to get a drink after two a.m. in this damned teetotaler province. A pox on Canada’s WASP founding fathers. Better yet, may they have to eat their own cuisine for all eternity. I’d rather the French had a greater influence on Canada’s laws relating to the pleasant vices. Even though they’re such cheese-eating surrender monkeys, they know how to have a good time.
The ridiculousness continues. So much that this is just the third of three Sunday picdumps…
The ridiculousness continues. So much that this is just the second of three Sunday picdumps…
The ridiculousness continues. So much that this is just the first of three Sunday picdumps…
A quick blast from the past: 11 years ago today, Anitra and I did a…
I’ll let the updated posting in Craigslist explain: *******UPDATE PLEASE READ******* Thank you for your…
On Wednesday afternoon, I got this text from Tom Hood, ukulele player extraordinaire and leader…