Sometimes you just gotta have 12 cocktails and catch up with your girlfriend.

Last thursday, my number one gal Maegan and I were overdue for a long catch up. You know.. of the boy talk, mutual friend gossip, omg i havent worked out in 18 months, variety. We met for a few drinks at the Bourgeois Pig in the East Village. If youve never been, I recommend it. We somehow managed to stick to a liquid diet of fancy cocktails, but they have fondue, yalls. Im talking a vat of dessert fondue with peanut butter and dark chocolate separated by cake. WTF? FTW! TFW ! ( <– Thats F*ckin Wonderful. I’m trying it out, give it time.) It smelled amazing. but i fondon’t need that on my waistline, snap!

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Following the pig, we had the best gimlets you can imagine at Ten Degrees. Did anyeon else notice how they drank about a million gimlets every night in Julia+Julia. No wonder she cooked the entire cookbook in a year. That woman was drunk stuffing her face 365 times.

3 hours and (cough) gimlets later we finally got a call on my cell that we had seats in the Crif Dogs speakeasy. Thats right, Crif Dogs, the little underground hot dog joint the size of a hallway has a speakeasy. You go in through the telephone booth. SHhhhhh.

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Taxidermied animals, bartenders in bowties, bourbon drinks with muddled strawberries. Go there now. but i recommend a reservation because it took us 3.5 hours to get to seats at the BAR on a thursday night. But worth it.

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