Shuck All the Bucks
Jennette and I polished off 36 oysters at Rodney’s. That place is like the male version of Earl’s or Cactus club. Prerequisites for working as a server: male, white, handsome, beard. Every hour is happy hour. In my pants.
I think this is how Earl’s prevents their patrons from getting drunk too easily. Huge 2oz drinks.
In which bacon in something is actually a terrible idea. Icy cold, soggy, salty as fuck bacon. And, inexplicably, a whole pickled baby carrot. I feel like you have to try really hard to fuck up a caesar.
