we be clubbed

So Pete really wants to go to this old sailor bar called the "Navy Yard Cocktail Lounge." He passes it everyday on his way to work, but has never found the courage or self-destructive impulse to enter it's creepy front door. See this picture of it's lovely facade? There's just gotta be some ghoulies in there playin a spooky game of ghost darts or something.


Make me an appletini sir! Chop chop!!

'I ain't afraid no spooks,' you say? Well, spooks ain't our biggest concern, you big jerk. It's getting shot or stabbed or fish-hooked by a crusty old sailor with one leg and a bad attitude that's been intoxicatedly stewing since his Navy left the area without him in aught-six.

Anyway, if anyone's interested in going, do tell. And if this outing should prove to be my last, I hereby bequeath this blog to Reginald Veljohnson.