grandma's, squirrels and chickens

last night i went to 'grandma's', this underground bar on holgate that looks like the bowels of a log cabin. it's got extensive woodcarving (including a full nativity) and fireplaces that they refuse to light. there's a restaurant upstairs that looks like it would serve a good plate of biscuits and hash-browns (and of course more woodcarving).

the best part about the place was the girl-drink drunks. they were these beefy trucker types sitting at the bar, telling each other what cheap dates they were and buying each other pina coladas and daiquiris. if that wasn't awesome enough there was karaoke, which ranged from two scenester chicks covering 'you gotta fight for your right to party' to a man belting out a traditional song of mexico.


today the squirrels and the chickens (my neighbors' feral chickens, i should mention) have escalated their hostilities to full on shit talking. this means the trees around my house are full of angry squirrel and chicken noises - i'm assuming they're talking shit. as far as i'm concerned the chickens have no right being in the trees and the squirrels are fully justified in throwing their nuts trying to make the chickens get out. hmmm, i think some people could learn from the parable of the squirrel and the chicken: don't invade and occupy a place, then get upset when nuts start getting thrown at your head.

obvious and gratuitous squirrel photo