A virtual hoard of the shiny things I find on the internet.

 

Tonight

tbridge:

There’s a story about dinner tonight.

It’s a story about how I’m probably no longer welcome at Carmine’s anymore in Penn Quarter.(1)

And how I probably should just abandon my Open Table account.(2)

And how it’s probably not worth telling, except over a lot of bourbon.(3)

(1) It involves my little cousin Magnus(4).

(2) Because I’m sure this is on their records now. And that can’t stand. Really.(5)

(3) Good bourbon, please.

(4) Yes, that’s really his name.

(5) It involves inappropriate pooping.

Let’s just say that Tom gave me a look. And that look said, “I hope our parents don’t want grandchildren. Ever.” 

And the look I gave him in return was, “I’m kind of not caring what they want, unless they want to be the ones dealing with the poop in the restaurant.”

  1. tj said: Oh… my… I hope to hear this story over good bourbon some day in the future when it’s achieved more “Remember that time…?” status versus the “WHAT IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE?!” status I _assume_ it (rightly) has now.
  2. gatsbylives said: I have Carmine’s connections. Let me know how I can help. :)
  3. sblaufuss said: Now you HAVE to tell us!
  4. tiffanyb reblogged this from tbridge and added:
    Let’s just say that Tom gave me a look. And that look said, “I hope our parents don’t want grandchildren. Ever.” And the...
  5. dennymayo said: Does rye work I have a bottle and we can do stories.
  6. tbridge posted this