It `tis a silly place.

Some famous New Yorker once said of his city, "Anyone who lives anywhere else has got to be kidding."

Well, I've lived in St. Louis, Missouri for almost three years now and I've got something to say about that, Mr. New Yorker.

You're absolutely fuckin' RIGHT! I've never been to New York so I can't comment on that city's awesomness or lack thereof, but as far as St. Louis goes the above quote hits the nail on the dick.
Check out this nifty little graph from River Front Times. Pay special attention to the bits that list, Angriest, Craziest, Dangerous and most Gonorrhea having-est. You'll see where I'm going here.

This place sucks! What am doing here? I've been out of my apartment for since 10:30 this morning and so far today four people have asked me for change and cigarettes, two others asked if I had me some JEEE-sus in my life, one pulled up in a black windowless van and offered me candy that looked suspiciously like prescription pharmaceuticals and then a woman named Charanda tried to stab me in the face with a broken crack pipe while screaming "Fuck you, Carl!"
And Charanda was a cop.

What's really bass-ackwardly fucked is that none of the random street shitheads I encountered tried to sell me drugs. If anyone of them had, I would be feeling so much better about my day. I mean, whatever happened to crack? They still have crack, right?

If some one had offered me some crack today then by the time Charanda rolled up on me I would have been all, "Yeah, baby, fuck Carl. That guys a douche."

(I still don't know who Carl is, but he probably is a douche. "Carl" is essentially a douchy name. Carl. Hi, I'm CARL. Fuck your mom, Carl.)

Right, so, anyway. Welcome to my new blog, WHISKEY DOME. Shiny, n'est-ce pas? This is where I will be dropping my insane rantings, unintelligible gibberish, philosophical musings, reviews on whatever cultural flotsam wanders into my gun sights and a bunch of other crap I made up.

AND there shall be Whiskey!

Buckle up, bitches!