Last Wednesday I found out that my friend, Tom Magill died. He was a wonderful person. He loved his bloody marys and taught me a lot about the Brass Rail and it's inner workings. He was quite the story teller and kept me company many a day in the Rail.
Last evening I found out my friend, Tootsie, died. He was a master of colourful language and a good person, always ready with a helping hand and a meal and a cocktail. His liquor bill for his home rivaled any nightclub! I will miss seeing him at his usual spot, right next to Brandie playing the video machine and demanding his vodka and soda with two lemons and asking how that fat fuck, Chunkie, is doing, lol.
Why does heaven get all the angels?