Fire and Devil Juice
You know when you take a bite of something and realize too late that it's hotter than hell, and you just sorta sit there wheezing he-he-he-he-he-he trying to cool your tongue with forced induction before your whole head goes up in a giant fireball? I love that.
On Tuesday night, we're going to Los Dos Molinos for roast-your-ass New Mexican eating and margaritas so good you'll wonder how they do it with such crap tequila. I've said it before, but it bears repeating: "Los Dos is one of those places you really should be able to say you've tried if you claim any expertise about this "Valley of the Sun." We're going."
Who? Whoever RSVPs.
What? We're going to eat Mexican food and drink margaritas. The restaurant isn't expensive or fancy and the food is good. What's not to like?
Where? Los Dos Molinos, Phoenix [Map]
When? 6pm, June 10, 2003.
Why? Well, I'm not saying it's a reason, but you know, I'm kinda moving. Don't come for my sake, but if you want to see me before I peace outta here, this is probably the last occasion.