Β
Β Atlanta, dear Wonkadoos, was a compleat treat. About a dozen hardy lovers came from all over the South -- one young miss from Birmingham! -- to drink our beer and eat our vittles. And every one a peach! As usual, we will not be identifying the beautiful peoples in our party pix, but they may do so if they choose, in the comments. EXCEPT! We will ID TTommyUnger, who is the sexy old beast in the black mustache, because we must talk about his wife! Now. You never know what's going to happen when someone brings a wife. Maybe she will be unhappy with our crude, vulgar, libtard ways! Sure, he hangs out in biker bars, but maybe they lead separate lives and she knits muffins with her High Baptist Ladies Auxiliary (we understand this is what they do in the genteel South). Nope. Melanie proceeded to regale us with tales of waving her titanium .38 at any ol' motherfuckers who wanted to cut her off in traffic, and also some good ones about Jimmy Carter at church. So Melanie is our newest lady love, and she's packing heat. Party people after the jump!
Count me in. Annie Moore’s, on East 43rd, has plenty of room, tables downstairs, and it's a quick walk to Grand Central. Not a bad place (after the commuters leave to catch their Metro North trains), but with $10 wings, is it divey enough for Wonkers?
There's also the W. 79th St. Boat Basin Cafe (burgers & beer on a covered patio, with river view.)
All the killing and enslavement were schmutzing up the freedom lesson.