da roof

after a three year war against the evil forces of greed and ego the roof top bar and grill (at BICD) has risen from the ashes  and is preparing to fly again.  and, yes, it is on fire.

the grand opening saturday night highlighted a simple yet outstanding menu consisting of hamburgers, chicken burgers, and veggie burgers.  (along with a “special” dish du jour once in a while.)

by far the most popular culinary delight offered by ben and scott (not their real names) is, so far, the veggie burger with bacon.  (come on, you know you want one.)

it’s so good  it’ll make you want to squeal like a pig.

(also available with a side of chicharron and cream gravy for those of you who still have some space in your arteries)

this gala event was attended by everybody who is anybody (you know who you are) including k, e, b, r, moi, and several other initials who have asked to remain anonymous.

g, k, s, w, p, r, and b were conspicuously absent  and  were sorely missed.

all of the beer was sold out (happy time prices all night) with only six cases of port royal surviving through the festivities.  the rum stores were seriously depleted and the tequila was shot plumb full of holes.

we capped the evening off by shooting a duck.

a moment of silence, please, a legend is born.

“it was a dark and stormy night…

right up until the moment i heard a gasoline assisted “whump!” and saw a pile of leaves  go up in flames  3 meters high just outside my window.

the next three seconds  witnessed  my apartment filling up with smoke to the point where i actually  had to get out of bed, get dressed, turn off the tv (where one of hugh hefners’ girlfriends was explaining her addiction to balls), grab what was left of my crown royal, and vacate the building.

(drop and roll, drop and roll…)

at this point there were five more “whumps” in rapid succession, more flames, more smoke, and a spontaneously dis-assembled crown royal bottle in pieces around me at the bottom of the stairs next to what was left of my ass.

i crawled across the yard in darkness permeated with smoke and ash through barbed wire fences, chicken droppings, and some as yet unidentified sludge that looked and smelled suspiciously like horse shit and baby oil.

(don’t ask me how i know)

i looked back and saw my landlord leaning on a hoe (shame on you!) shouting “gonna be some rain tonight, gotta be ready!”), stood up, shook back my clothes, and walked into town for a couple of late night beers.

and you’re probably sitting there thinking i made this up.

not really

the persistent hacking cough wasn’t enough.

having to buy another cell phone because my other one died wasn’t enough.

facebook e-mailing me just to let me know i had been voted “not really” in their best friends contest wasn’t enough.  (i was mortified! mortified i tell ya!)

the day started off relatively normal.  nice breeze, sunny, calm seas.  johnnys’ even had honey buns for breakfast.

but as the day wore on i kept getting the feeling that disaster was lurking just around the corner.

waiting.

watching.

snickering.

the cough started to get better.  the cell phone came with 900 bonus minutes for local calls and, after four or five honey buns, i no longer cared about the “not really” thing.

i figured whoever it was could just bite me.

so it was with a feeling of optimism that i finally found myself at tranquila bar having a nice relaxing sunset beer.

i forgot about mr. disaster.

waiting.

watching.

snickering a little more uncontrollably.

i started the night out having a few drinks with a nice massage therapist and ended up drinking with a navy seal and an army ranger.

wait a minute.  what!?

my head hurts.

going home

well, it’s official…

…i’m going back to texas.

where briskets grow on trees, ice cold beer freely flows in every stream, and 4 alarm chili bubbles up in hot springs.

back to luckenbach with willie, waylon, and the boys.

home to the armadillo.

the friendliest people and the prettiest women you ever seen.

home.