If you ever find yourself in Orfordville, Wisconsin ...
There are two bars. Knute's and The Spot Bar. Both entertaining in their own way.
Knute's
-There were about a dozen people there. When we walked in, they all stared at us in a who-the-hell-are-these-girls kind of way.
-The bartender was cute.
- Miller Lite "shorties" were on special for 75 cents. They're the cutest bottles of beer ever. They're just so short and fat; they're almost cuddly. If a bottle of beer could be cuddly. (Sorry, August. I drank some. I'm not dead. Deal with it.)
-When we left, someone shouted something to the effect of, "Hey, Wilber, your ladies are leaving."
The Spot Bar
-We were the only people there besides the bartender.
-In all of the hubbub of actually having customers, the bartender got our order wrong and gave me the wrong beer. (Sorry, August. It was still from Wisconsin. I'm still not dead.)
-As we were the only people there, my friends and I got to play as much pool as we wanted and put lots of songs on the juke box. (With "Sweet Home Alabama" and "Every Rose Has Its Thorn" on the juke box, what more can a girl ask for? Okay, maybe "Brown Eyed Girl.")
F.I.B.s in mourning
My friend Lizz, the one who lives in Orfordville now, just got her Wisconsin driver's license. She has officially gone over to the dark side. She's quite distraught. I feel as if I should be wearing some sort of black arm band.
Am Absolutely Ancient
My three closest friends from high school:
-One is getting married in August
-Another just got engaged about an hour ago
-The third has been dating her boyfriend for over 6 years
Oh, the green and red of Mayo, I can see it still
Today, I found out that my Irish ancestors come from Pollagarraun, County Mayo. I have directions to the old family house. I could rent the cottage next door for a week. I'm bloody excited. It's right near (but not actually on) the Mullet Peninsula. Perhaps this is where the hairstyle originated. Hmm ... I'd like to think my ancestors had a better sense of style than that.
This blog entry will end soon ... I swear
I was going to say something snarky about how this title is a lot like one of these titles. (Note the dates.) :P But this blog entry is already really long. That's all. I'll stop now. I swear.
There are two bars. Knute's and The Spot Bar. Both entertaining in their own way.
Knute's
-There were about a dozen people there. When we walked in, they all stared at us in a who-the-hell-are-these-girls kind of way.
-The bartender was cute.
- Miller Lite "shorties" were on special for 75 cents. They're the cutest bottles of beer ever. They're just so short and fat; they're almost cuddly. If a bottle of beer could be cuddly. (Sorry, August. I drank some. I'm not dead. Deal with it.)
-When we left, someone shouted something to the effect of, "Hey, Wilber, your ladies are leaving."
The Spot Bar
-We were the only people there besides the bartender.
-In all of the hubbub of actually having customers, the bartender got our order wrong and gave me the wrong beer. (Sorry, August. It was still from Wisconsin. I'm still not dead.)
-As we were the only people there, my friends and I got to play as much pool as we wanted and put lots of songs on the juke box. (With "Sweet Home Alabama" and "Every Rose Has Its Thorn" on the juke box, what more can a girl ask for? Okay, maybe "Brown Eyed Girl.")
F.I.B.s in mourning
My friend Lizz, the one who lives in Orfordville now, just got her Wisconsin driver's license. She has officially gone over to the dark side. She's quite distraught. I feel as if I should be wearing some sort of black arm band.
Am Absolutely Ancient
My three closest friends from high school:
-One is getting married in August
-Another just got engaged about an hour ago
-The third has been dating her boyfriend for over 6 years
Oh, the green and red of Mayo, I can see it still
Today, I found out that my Irish ancestors come from Pollagarraun, County Mayo. I have directions to the old family house. I could rent the cottage next door for a week. I'm bloody excited. It's right near (but not actually on) the Mullet Peninsula. Perhaps this is where the hairstyle originated. Hmm ... I'd like to think my ancestors had a better sense of style than that.
This blog entry will end soon ... I swear
I was going to say something snarky about how this title is a lot like one of these titles. (Note the dates.) :P But this blog entry is already really long. That's all. I'll stop now. I swear.
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