Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Summers is an American Beauty
I got a text the candyman was working the back bar. I thought to myself, I'm a friend of the devil, the Red Room is where I belong. When I walked up the hill to that brokedown palace I found it packed with trivia phanatics. When I pulled open Summers New Door, I felt a ripple as the collective knowledge in the red room flowed out. Once I made it past the operator in the funny hat talking about guitar chords, I made it to the corner seat. I ordered a beer and Gino said pour me some sugar magnolia. I said its Wednesday and I don't have to work tomorrow, I'm going to drink til the morning comes. After trivia ended, the bar was dead and I was grateful. Things were copacetic until Mya arrived. Phuck, here comes the box of rain. I'm truckin.
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Simmer down there Betty Cantor, don't get your panties in a bunch. Casey Jones & i went up to meet Black Peter in the Red Room. Walking up the hill took away my easy wind but once we got there we had a high time. It was salsa night so Uncle John's band was laying down some fat tracks while drunken patrons worked their new speedway boogie on the dance floor. i had no beer and had a major case of the cumberland blues because mya the dire wolf was working the back bar and i knew i would be dead before i got another beer.
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