Oh em gee, Mish-Fish, we are back and… WTF? There are approximately 7 jillion new restaurants blowing up the ‘hood, people with bad clothes are happier than ever, and you still can’t wear red past Cesar Chavez.
Robby and I decided to dive into some Mission mayhem this weekend, so we went to check out the new nightclub, KRUA (just a stroll away at 16th and Guerrero.) Apparently this used to be some lame-ass Thai resto, but we heard that the owners got hip to the needs of the neighbs. They are def gunning to be the next A1A Steak Lounge. Natch.
Xanax does NOT REQUIRE SILVERWARE, PPL. ( I can't sit down in this dress ne way.)
Geared up for some srs J-Pop, I decked out in my best six inch sling-backs + tiny tube shirt-dress, picked up Mr. Aberdeen (crucial accessory) and started getting crazy sloppy on those whiskey-filled chocolate balls. (It’s XMAS BIA!) When we got to KRUA, though, I was all “Where’s the line?” For reals, people, there were approximately negative five humans in the place. Maybe has something to do with the fact that they are totes crowding the dance floor w/ weird-ass tables. (Or weird ass-tables?) Oh and NO LIQUOR? WTF? How am I supposed to get crunk and make out with hella strangerz?
Verdict: KRUA Thai is NOT where the party is at. Unless you are into free ice water and cracking your shins on aluminum chairs while you get your freak on.
Alice Armstrong
Robby Aberdeen
