Happy Mommy Day!!!

Thanks mom... You did it right.

Squeaky noises...

So, sometimes when I come home from work and take the dog out, I hear some squeaky things. I realize that's a pretty vague generalization, but I have no point of reference in which to categorize this sound!
Shit!
Stop judging my vocabulary!
Anyway, I have determined they are coming from my neighbor's patio...

What's your strongest, cheapest shot? It's called am Oxymoron. #bartenderwrath -- The Bartendress (@the_Bartendress)

Night off

I might have sliced my foot open.
And by 'might,' I mean totally did and didn't realize until I saw the trail of blood following me on the tile floor.
Also, adult swim.... Stop with the goddamn  Navy commercials. Every five minutes with the, "global force for good."
I don't appreciate your propaganda.

Or your tone, for that matter!

And all of these things are why my nights off, away from the bar, are far more dangerous than you might think.

Tweets and things

https://twitter.com/#!/the_Bartendress
Stalk me.

Shot of the day.... Green tea: 3/4 Oz Jameson, 3/4 Oz peach schnapps, splash of sour, splash of sprite. Shaken. -- The Bartendress (@the_Bartendress)

Yes, let's.

Just wondering?

How do you say, "I don't want your man," in psycho girlfriend?
I mean, I speak crazy. Just not this particular dialect, I guess. So, a note for you ladies....
The bartender does not want your boyfriend. It takes a special breed of asshole to hit on a guy that is clearly with someone. Not to mention, we work off of tips. Causing a fight between to customers who are paying jointly, not in my best interest. But, all if these things aside. The best way to make my point here is, we have about seven drunk asses at any given moment hitting on us. Your boyfriend/husband/guy you made out with and claimed yours after 3 cosmos, is not even on our radar, except when he looks like he's going to puke in his Long Island. We are paid and made to be nice to everyone. Not just women and single guys. Rest assured, while I might remember what he drinks next time I see him, your man left my mind before the ink was dry on the credit card slip. All I really care about is making last call, cleaning up and getting home to my own man.
I've got a bone to pick with him. I heard he was out at a club flirting with a bartender.
Heads will roll!

Why...

Why, at the grocery store, do they wrap my wine in a plastic bag before putting it inside, yet another, plastic bag? Are they afraid my other groceries are going to judge me for drinking? Trust me, the spinach doesn't care and the condoms already know.