The Boy Wonder should probably get out his shit shield. Some years ago I pointed out that the chef's new apron was invisible, and a shilling underling unleashed a horde of feces-flinging comment monkeys.
A k a Regina Schrambling, I write once a week at the base camp but come across things between Sundays that are worth sharing. I suspect my emailing list is plumb tuckered out from clicking on everything I send around, though. And so I’ve sold my soul to the Google.
1 comment:
food is ok--bar is a meat market--house-made infused ouzo sub par when compared to spiked Kool-Aid
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