Tonight was possibly the best night of our lives, however, we words cannot quantify or contain the West Alabama Ice House in Houston, Texas. We won't try. We can't. Just know that this place is magical. And the hot dog man works only on tips.
The band. The hot dogs. The dancing. The tab that was $15 for 6 beers.
We were lucky enough to see the future of ourselves at the Ice House.
Mamie, you see, has sweet moves and even sweeter shoes. She's very friendly and actually came over to the current Mamie to ask for a dance. I, on the other hand, have dyed my hair blonde and gone for the pig tails at 40 look. I'm also happy to report that I've finally found true love with a bald chubby white man. Yes, this is my destiny.
Jenn Richards, we were able to find you in ten as well. In true Jenn fashion, you bought a loaf of banana bread from the rehab folks, but you passed on the tamales. Always responsible, you tipped back your booze, read your magazine, sat close to the band and watched me dance-- clearly jealous of my sweet moves.
Molly, I love your new tattoo. But when you've got a piece of art like that on your ankle you should wear socks that let the world see that baby.
Unfortunately, none of us was able to go home with Mike, here. Good news is he clearly lives in Fishtown so I'll be sure to look for him on the corner with his feet in the kiddie pool.
I cannot believe that no one else has commented on this greatness! While I do not have a me in ten, I do wish we had a picture of Nate in ten aka the peach shirted man with full pockets who was getting down with his bad self. Love you girls!
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