The Best Bar, The Worst Bar

There’s an *amazing* place that I’ve discovered recently. It’s close to my house (just across the street from my coffee shop) and it has about a million different craft beers on tap. And ciders. And last time I was in there, they had five different meads.

What the fuck.


I was just wandering that night, when I though, “eh, I’ll just pop in and give it a look”.

I opened the door and was met with Dropkick Murhpies.

That was it. I was sold.

(I’m a bit easy like that.)


They also do flights.


My favourite places are the ones where my decision can be continued indecision.



The only bad thing, is that this super awesome bar that is reasonably close to my house is also *closer* to the late-night pizza place than it is to the Vivarium.

So, I could walk home.

Or I could walk to the pizza place, and then walk home.


Hipster problems, friends.

Hipster problems.


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