So this past weekend I went to Denver to visit my sister, brother-in-law and my one and only nephew. I had gotten FKR's phone number and hoped to meet up with him. On a side note, I might be starting up a bar in the Colorado Springs area with my family. They are military and the whole area is surrounded by military bases. Slainte!
Flying over the middle of the US. We got to choose our own seats so I chose a window seat and then 2 good looking girls chose to sit next to me. Life is great! However they both fell asleep so I popped on the Ipod, listened to Sinatra and ordered some bourbon.
I drank 4 Wild Turkeys and got charged for two. Because of traveling with dry family I've never gotten drunk on an airplane before but I highly recommend it. I tipped cash and because of that got great service. At that point I had to check the map to find where I was going.
Arrived in Denver, here's mile high stadium where the Broncos play. About this time I called FKR. It went to voicemail.
I had my sister stop at the Lancer Lounge on the way to Colorado Springs. This is one of FKR's hangouts and I thought I might run into him. There is a review of the place in "My Favorite Bars" by FKR if anyone is interested.
We met some very nice people inside. I got a Wild Turkey and a shot of Rumpleminz. $10 for essentially 6 drinks, because they pour VERY heavy. The lady actually made sure that I wasn't driving before she gave me the shot. My sister, my nephew and a friendly regular.
Back at the homestead, the fam's Christmas tree.
Went to Old Chicago for dinner. My nephew Vinnie wanted to try the lambic.
He was a real asshole after he got drunk.
This is maybe 10 minutes from there house. Beautiful!
Balanced Rock in Garden of the Gods near Colorado Springs.
Vinnie with Santa at the North Pole (really!).
At the penny arcade checking my sex appeal meter. I registered as "hard to get".
Ahh yes, after a long day of entertaining the kid it's time to hit the booze stash.
Few things are better than drinking Crown and Coke while killing zombies (Left for Dead 2).
End of vacation, tagging back down in Detroit. Blah! It was 63 in Denver and I had to come back to slush and cold weather!
FKR never called me back. I can only assume he is either drunk, in jail, or a bastard. I was touted as Uncle Bourbon Breath the whole weekend, a name which I will bear proudly throughout my nephew's life, culminating when he is old enough to drink.
Bourbon is my blood.
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