This Sunday, you can pretend you’re down home in Mississippi again — barefoot in the sunshine by the river, barbeque sauce all over yer smilin’ face, strummin’ a gee-tar an’ tappin’ yer toe. Wait, what’s that? You’re from Connecticut, and you don’t know how to play, or eat? That’s alright!

I don’t know anyone who doesn’t appreciate a good happy hour, the problem is I don’t actually get out of work til after all of them are over and then it’s back to $7 beers again.  Lucky for me, one of my favorite venues is now offering a happy hour

I relish three-day weekends, not just because of the time off, but generally there is a mass exodus from the city and I get to roam around a little bit more people free. For those of you who were like f this I’m outta here. I’m happy for you, but