mind boggle in Plano

HayJax bailed on us Friday night, so Jill-Bob and I ended up at The End Zone in Plano, which is roughly equidistant. The End Zone's a typical smoke-filled neighborhood sports bar complete with pool tables, dartboards, an under-used mini-buffet and a mysterious Back Room. An odd blue canopy juts into the strip-mall parking lot.

Jill has decided to write a book entitled "The Cheese Fries of America" and (as part of the research) sampled the Cheddar Fries (you can read a review on her blog Real Soon Now). I had a Dickweed Burger, named after the world-famous Dickweed Motorcycle Club, which gathers there Thursday night. The waitress barely batted an eye when she asked for my order. "I feel like a Dickweed," I said. She didn't ask how I wanted it cooked. I guess it only comes one way: medium. Also: pity she's only 22.

After viewing their website, JB noted:

"There's KARAOKE on Tuesday and Friday nights for all you singers out there."

Pity we didn't hang around that long. The thought of Gene-Bob and Jill-Bob singing "Feelings" to a karaoke machine is just too mind-boggling ...