My war bag. My tech bag. It holds my gear. It keeps me mobile. It’s flashy.
Tom Bihn makes some very quality backpacks, briefcases and travel bags.
Tom Bihn Ristretto bag keeps me mobile.
I love my manly Ristretto Bag by Tom Bihn. It’s made in the USA. Ristretto is a very “short” shot of espresso coffee. Delicious!
It’s a vertical messenger bag in the color of Black/Wasabi for toting my essentials; including the Samsung Galaxy Tab S2. I live the portable life yo. Now I can be portable and still show off my keen sense of style. The mannish bag looks great and is super functional. I am a fashionista and this accessory is ideal.
There is something about an interior padded compartment that makes me as giddy as a hog on butchering day. The compartment is open-cell foam laminated with durable 4 Ply Taslan® on the outside, and features an interior of super-soft brushed nylon. Say that 100 times real fast! I am impressed by the asymmetrical flap that closes with the distinctive Tom Bihn off-set buckle.
When the ladies shoot me a broad smile I know it is not only attributed to my rugged, flannel-clad, mountain-man handsome self – it’s partially because of my awesome as heck messenger bag filled with gadgets and trinkets and pens and paper.
EXT. FIELD – DAY
A filthy cowboy, clad in dirty blue jeans, cowboy boots, blue flannel shirt and hat looks into the camera. He is chewing tobacco and spits towards the ground.
I’m a manly man. Here on the ranch, after a hard days work of wrastling livestock, destroying flowers, regulating the sheep and makin’ sweet and gentle love to my lady, I need something that fills my massive appetite.
COWBOY SPITS TOBACCO JUICE
When my belly calls for something hearty jumbo, I have Hardee’s deliver a Monster Thickburger so that I may feast here on my ranchy battleground.
When this burger’s grease spills down the front of my musty flannel, I am amazed at the beefy goodness. It is seasoned, fried and delicious. With two one-third pound hunks of Angus beef, four strips of crispy bacon, three slices of American cheese and seven tablespoons of mayonnaise on a buttered, toasted, sesame seed bun, I cannot help but fill my belly. My abdomen is genetically designed to process and digest a massive amount of meat products. I’m a rancher. I need thickburger.
Buy one today, a Monster Thickburger from Hardee’s. Woo Beef SooWeeeeeeeee!!!
Paris on the Platte at 1553 Platte St. in Denver is closed. I miss it. It was once the oldest coffee house in the Denver located in the heart of LoDo Confluence Valley.
Paris was one of my old haunts from the high school days in the early 1990s. It basically remained the same over the years, save a few minor differences.
There was always questionable artwork for sale from paintings to sculptures to pottery displayed on the walls. The food and coffee were first-class.
I enjoyed this laid back coffee house. It was open late although I preferred to go there during the day when I was older.
Many ghosts of the past are present there. I could sense it in the air and in the walls. I could almost feel myself regressing into my former, high school nerdy self while sitting in the back room shortly before it closed permanently. I wanted to wear a beret for some odd reason. I heard Ween in my head.
Many late-night hours were spent at Paris in my stoned youth playing chess, hanging out with friends, writing stories, smoking clove cigarettes, drinking café Mexicana, café Fantasia, looking at dusty books in the bookstore and doing all of the pretentious coffee house things a wayward youth did in the early 90s.
Paris was a nice alternative to Starbucks and one cannot go wrong with supporting local businesses in lieu of corporate, on every corner, coffee slag.
I always ordered café Fantasia, grub chips and salsa (red onions and cilantro made this homemade salsa oh so good) and a Ruben sammich on marble rye.
Every time I visited I kept expecting to get accosted by black clothed/hooded Goth kids while I was trying to keep from spilling the full of chunks salsa down my front. Goth kids were rarely seen in these modern days but I dribbled the foodie stuff all over myself as usual. I try to be graceful but to no avail.