It pains me to no end to find myself quoting Jimmy Buffet:
My head hurts, my feet stink, and I don't love Jesus.
It's that kind of mornin', really was that kind of night.
Tryin' to tell myself that my condition is improvin'
and if I don't die by Thursday I'll be roarin' Friday night.
I knew going into Tales that I was not going to be up to posting while there and I am sort of gratified (justified?) to see that most blogs cocktailian are noticeably thin on their Tales coverage. There was just too much going on. Rather than attempt to give a detailed recap, I am just going to freeform it. If you fit in here somewhere, thanks. If you were there with me and you don't see a reference to yourself, don't feel bad, I was just too drunk to focus.
10 Po'Boys (that's right, 10!!)
The Alibi
The Oregon Cocktail Suite
Elevator Networking
Carousel Bar Networking
Lobby Networking
Sidewalk Networking
Poolside Networking
In the Pool Networking (only a little bit gay)
Late-night Suite Networking
Morganthaler ('nuff said)
Mother's
MotAC (just lovely)
Sunrise...all 5 of them
lime juice
Meyer the Hatter
Lance Winters sitting next to Ted Breaux Sitting next to me
Gary muthergrabin Regan!
LUPEC Boston (I love you gals)
Last call at the Old Absinthe House (don't we get a T-shirt or something for making that long)
Where the hell is Dominic Venegas?
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment