Friday, August 28, 2009


Written 30 minutes ouside of Laramie, as the wide expanse of Wyoming sky turns from gold to deep blue.

We had a pretty quiet night in Omaha, a pretty quiet town. We stayed at the Cornerstone Mansion B&B run by the spunky Barbara and her talking dog Lucy. On Sherrie Flick's recommendation we went to eat at McFoster's restaurant on Dodge Street (which made us think wistfully of Brian of Dodge Street Tires...). Our waitress was the spitting image of Amy Poehler and the sweet potato fries were incredible.

After dinner we went across the street to hang out with Omaha's "white-belted hipsters" at Brother's Lounge. Phil liked this bar so much he wouldn't shut up about it. They made a killer Pimm's Cup and Phil broke the dartboard with his machine gun-like delivery to the bull's-eye.

We skipped town pretty early the next morning. Or at least we tried to. Apparently they are re-building the entire city of Omaha and there was construction galore. That's when Phil had his first "misadventure" of the be continued.

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