Vellcome, Oktober.
Two huge, salty thumbs up for Wolff’s Biergarten in Albany.
[Murph ordering a pretzel and some mac and cheese.]
We plopped down at one of the two long stretches of tables, bellied up on a bench, and watched glass boots full of beer dance above heads in the crowd.
There were some dart games going on in the back, great music, and my father’s one main condition for a great bar: a floor covered in peanut shells.
Interestingly enough, the way to the ladies’ bathroom is by walking in front of the line of fire of the darts. Murph had solid clearance but I was wearing platform shoes and found myself checking my hair for stray darts while I was on the john.
[Shellin’ nuts.]
I had a brat with sauerkraut and some mashed potatoes. Sadly, no boot of beer. That’s next time.
[Serious eats: Rob’s meatloaf and cuc salad.]
[Typical Wodehouse table graffiti.]
[Aww.]
i just adore your posts!
love, mickie
“solid clearance.” hahaha
i did. it’s true.
lurvely post-age, homeslice.
I’m pretty sure typical Wodehouse table graffiti would be boner, not booner. Can’t pull the wool over these eyes.