Last night Joe and I went to the Beauty Bar - just east or maybe north (or hell, south, west, whatever) of Union Square - and saw goddamn Chris Kattan fumbling with the bathroom door. I was just about to write the bar off as one of those Rolling Stone-kids, inky-haired, Chrissy Hines joints, until I saw Corky Romano using the potty. That deserved a tall whiskey. Oh yes indeed it did.
It's stories like these that will keep you coming back, fair reader, and me too. Ugh. I have indigestion.