I’ve a touch of the plague.

I’d like to recount to you, my friends and neighbors, how my weekend went (to my recollection) and what kinds of misadventures I was involved in that led me to the sickness I have now.

Friday night we were scheduled to play music at the Outland Ballroom in springfield, mo. This normally wouldnt make me nervous but the fact of the matter is, the damn place was packed. between the time we got there and the time we went on, I had 4 Pabst tall boys and a shot or two of bourbon. On stage I had a tall boy, a glass of makers and a bottle of water (i never touched). We played and it was ok. weird not having a rythm section. In my opinion we need to remedy that. anyhow, by the time we stop I’m drunk. happy and drunk. then I go over and start talking to Jeb and Jake and Kevin (the holy trinity of dudes who will fuk your world up in springfield) and then somehow I’m transported across town to Lindbergh’s which is legitimately the coolest bar in springfield. We hung out for twenty or thirty and then went back to the ballroom and got some cash (which I dont recall really) and and went to some all night steakhouse that was fucking amazing. By this point I’ve had enough makers and pabst to kill a small elephant. All I remember from there is randomly texting a few people and some people being worried and others confused. Then I remember waking up in a room that was not mine with a hangover that was undoubtably mine. Breakfast came early in the form of a pabst tallboy and a trip to a flea market aptly named “STD.” Then the trek home, which was peppered with long backroads, lots of country music and a few cans of busch (none for me thanks).

I think I drank too much, which dumbed down my immune system and then this plague came about and here I am.

damn the plague.

Rules for being a good resturaunt patron vol I

There are a lot of basic guidelines to follow when eating at a resturaunt, I’d like to outline a few that you should follow when at woody’s:

- If you call to find out what time a resturaunt closes, do not under any circumstances whatsoever go to the resturaunt fifteen minutes before said closing time… that is stupid and rude.

- If you must cover everything on your plate in a condiment by way of removing the reasonable cap from the top and dumping whatever it is on your food-replace the goddamn cap.

- If you cannot possibly leave the house without your shithead kids, make them clean up their napkin mess off the table/floor/ceiling. The fact is, you do not tip enough for me to be your childs maid.

- News Flash….–.-…-.-…..-.-..—…- tipping fifteen percent is pretty well standard now grandpa.

- If you want to take a large group out to a very small resturaunt call ahead to see how busy the place generally is on the night you want to go and reserve a table if at all possible. If not… go somewhere else.

- If you come to a resturaunt with a patio and the main area is filled, don’t look at your bartender/server/host like he/she is an asshole because he suggests you sit on the patio.

- Don’t be a dick because I dint have the stuff to make a dirty martini… fuck yourself James Bond.

- Racism is not welcome, Fuck you very much.

- Do not under any circumstances ask for a glass with a bottle of domestic session beer. A glass does not make Bud light taste better. It will still suck in a glass, you’ll just look less like a sorority girl.

- When I ask if you drink much at our restaurant, don’t look at me like it’s a stupid question because: A) I’m not 35+ and was not here when you were a drunk.                                                                                 B) I wouldnt give a fuck if I did know                                                                                                                     C) Its for your own good as our tap beer is not as cold as what you’re used to at whatever “neighborhood grill” you generally meet your golf buddies (read: boyfriends) at.