From there, we took in some more Kermit Ruffin at the Blue Nile. Tight funk and jazz band – well worth a second viewing. While my wife didn’t pass out early or anything, there was evidently something in the vodka and tonics that promoted zombification. Not in a drooling roofie sort of way, but in a clawing, constant-demanding-for-brains sort of way. You have to be careful with such things in this town, but luckily we managed to escape without incident.
Also, Jennifer thinks she might have run into Keith Urban, in all of his tiny, spa-enhanced glory. So, there you go. Thank you for that, Sugar Bowl.
We’re trying to decide now what to do with New Year’s Eve – Morning 40 Federation at One Eyed Jacks, Dumpstaphunk and Porter/Batiste/Stoltz at Howlin’ Wolf’s, or the celebration downtown. Comments?
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