Monday PB&J night at Doc’s Clock features the use of the bar’s Pabst toaster. That’s right. Why would Pabst make a toaster? How many bars have toasters? That said, I want one. And on a completely related note, I feel sorry for people with peanut allergies. You know how schools have banned peanut butter because people have peanut allergies? How does this work in the world?
I haven’t been keeping up on the photos because I’ve been busy lately, being a ninja.
At The Rumpus‘s literary event last month at The Make-Out Room.
I never realized how sexy Ms. Pac Man is.
I watched the game at this little bar on Polk Street called Cresta’s. One woman in orange was discarding peanut shells on the ground and drinking white wine.
Rose’s in Wicker Park, Chicago.
I hope your Saturday night plans look a little better than this. And that your Friday was a lot more interesting.
Here’s a shot from Burgos in Spain, where I got chased away by the bartender seconds after taking this shot of a man on a mission.
I went to a jazz club called Thelonius twice this past week. Here’s a drummer during the second set Friday night.