Chabad is throwing a Chanukkah party at my local (hipster) bar. I sort of have to see what this will entail, but then again don't know quite what I'd be getting myself into.
One and a half beers remains beyond my tolerance limit. If I were as intolerant as my liver, I would have a really successful stand-up act ala Sarah Silverman, in which I portrayed a "character" with "JAPPY"-racist inclinations, but alas this is not the case.
It's the one-year anniversary of the hat picture that used to be on this blog. Once again, I celebrated Christ's birth with Katherine, in a bar. Well, two bars. There was a man in bar #1 (bar #2 is the one which will soon be Chabad-ed out) with not one but TWO shiba inus. One orange and fully-grown and one black and a puppy. I need to remember never to wear short skirts to bars (even if I have leggings underneath; not just if it's to Chabad events) because sometimes I want to say hello to dogs but not to their somewhat attentive owners. Regardless, I for sure need to get a shiba inu one day, along with the array of dachshunds and gigantic poufy dogs. Oh yes.
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