this place tells a story. to me. about winning and losing, love and heartbreak, inspiration and despair, joy and misery. and most unwaveringly, the perfect glass of jameson, an always open table, a back alley made for sneakin smoke and a pitch black backdrop. all hail
I was there on Tuesday with Pat. He couldn't find the place he was looking for and then we came across it. You weren't there but I asked for you and they said they hadn't seen you in awhile. Until next time...
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