Emails From Joan

Though I never intended for it to be this way, apparently my blog is the devil’s playground, where sinners gather and frolic about giddily like Michael Jackson at a Wiggles concert.  Luckily I had Joan C. to inform me of just how horrible of a person I am.  I think the “C” stands for Crusader.…

Ain’t Karma a Bitch?

Last night an absolute PEACH of a gentleman patronized my establishment.  He was a fat red-headed specimen with sweaty armpits who apparently rejected the theory of alcohol poisoning and decided to challenge its existence. I, being of sound and sober mind, ended his little experiment promptly after he loudly informed a woman sipping wine at…

The Booze Braggers

I can’t tell you how sick I am of hearing people boast over how drunk they got the night before (“Duuuuuuuuuude! I was soooo wasted!!!”). And when I mention the word “boast” you would automatically assume that there would be some sort of accomplishment or feat that had transpired, like, “I totally made out with…