Sometimes you wanna go...

Where everybody knows your name. And that place is Lincoln. I tried hard to stay the entire weekend in KC. I had full intentions of doing so, I really did. But one thing led to another and around 3:45 p.m. on Saturday afternoon I found myself making the three hour drive to good ol Stinkin Lincoln. A three hour drive which included fog so heavy I could not see a car in front of me until I was practically driving on top of it. There were a few moments when I wondered what on earth I was doing driving three hours simply to drink. I mean it's Lincoln, what in the hell was I doing? But you know what, it wasn't the place I was risking my life to drive to, it was the people I was driving to drink with. Ok and the Rail and the Bar. I was ready to leave Lincoln, and I am glad I did (really I am) but now I just wish everyone there would come here. That would be great. Lincoln is like that great sloppy drunk uncle. It doesn't judge you, no matter how ridiculous you act or look, and it is always waiting with open arms to drink with you right away the next time. And just when you get tired of your uncle because he's too drunk and a little too of control so you leave it doesn't take too long for you to kinda miss the old drunk and the stanky scent of whiskey on his breath.