Tag: Pub

I-OH!-Weigh: Please Fly On Over

Moral: Don’t Write Drunk. Day 8, #reverb 10: The Beauty of Different (Thanks, Karen Walrond.) I live on the East Coast, in the glowing gutters of the GOLD COAST. I am not from here, however, and that makes me “different.” That’s right. I’m not from these parts. I’ve traveled and lived all over, but moving…

Galway on My Mind

I was juicing an orange this morning when a memory blast of Galway hit me. I didn’t juice any oranges, that I remember, in Galway, or any part of Ireland. I wonder what part of my brain shot me through with a violently lovely blip of those two days a year ago in Ireland. We…

What the pub did for me

At a pub, I learned the English are hard to get to know. But once you know them, it’s hard to let them go. And they don’t let go easy. They are like old dogs. Completely faithful. But they probably won’t leap up when you come in. In a pub I learned how beautiful cigarette…

Crikey! Cricket!

Just when I thought it MIGHT be safe to go to work at the pub again. Nawp. Sure every other pub in town is sighing with relief at the death of England in the World Cup, but not in this neighborhood. Things are just getting HOT here, and when I say HOT, we aren’t joking.…

5-7 Units

I’d like to stop. I’m not addicted. I don’t have to have it. The problem is, I don’t, technically, have to give it up yet. No zygote. No pregnancy. No excuse. So why say ‘no’ to just one glass? Just one pint? Just one dram? Sigh. And one, plus one, plus one and, well it’s…