It is just so validating to see my ancestral piled-high-on-the-damn-floor storage tech in the pages of the New York Times.

*$78 million. But what's another $3 million here or there when you're in the middle of a gold rush?

They never actually built the brand; never created any consciousness of it. It was just another minnow in the school. For $75 million.

Yeah, I get it. I’m not even offended—Dale is the best of us.

The laws of time and space, they are more bendy than we think.

Coming off the Harvey Wallbanger-Kamikaze-Appletini era, strong, unusual flavors seemed refreshing. Now, the usual too-much-of-a-good-thing rules apply. That doesn't mean I want to go back to the other, but I really appreciate some subtlety and restraint.

They have indeed.

It's "just around the corner."

My pleasure.

The recipe is fine, as far as it goes. In reality, it’s rather a looser affair: make a Dry Martini how you like a Dry Martini made. Splash a little absinthe in. Obituary!

Which article?

Paçanga böregi suggest yes.

Any day spent listening to the Cramps is a good day.

*Ginger’s Trois

That one was *chef’s kiss*. Salty. Funny.

I shoulda mentioned Ginger Trois’s nickname, which the bartender gleefully told us: “Ginger’s Twat.” Ah, good old San Francisco.