Sunday funday.

In Austin, Sunday Funday meant that I was sitting at Little Woodrow's with the guys, drinking beer and watching some sort of sporting event (bonus points for a Red Sox game). Food meant that we were eating tacos from a trailer.

In New York, Sunday Funday usually means Brunch (uppercase "B" is necessary). Today was no exception, and I joined some fellow NYC blogger girls at a great spot in Hell's Kitchen for food and bottomless alcoholic beverages. BNY did a great job of recapping the chaos, and I suggest that you rely on that rendition of the afternoon.

As I walked home, I called the aforementioned Little Woodrow's, intent on purchasing a pitcher of beer over the phone. Several friends of mine participate in the Houston to Austin rendition of the MS 150 every year. After they finish the ride, they always retire to Woodrow's for beers and relaxation. Since I couldn't be there in person, I had the idea to call and buy them a pitcher over the phone.

"Thanks for calling Little Woodrow's, how can I help you?"

"Hi, I have a random request I'm hoping you can help me with... (insert explanation about buying pitcher)"

"Um...well, who is this for?"

"[redacted] and [redacted]."

"OH! Yeah, no problem! We can definitely do that."

Is this a sign that my friends and I are notorious alcoholics?