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Restaurant Review: Hex & The City

If you know anything about Aspen, Colorado you’ll perhaps have heard of the ancient American Indian curse that was struck upon the Pitkin County valley. The Utes and the Payutes hexed the magnificent terrain to trap anyone who comes to visit, and somehow beguile them so they will never want to leave.   While this didn’t work out quite so well for the original natives, the effect from the curse does show up and h
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Food Review – Mangoes 12.28.16

As with the start of so many Key West stories, one day two men went into a bar. They chatted and this serendipitous encounter lead us to the new Mangoes we see today. Mangoes is an old name but way more than just a fresh coat of paint. For years the corner of Angela and Duval has been dominated by the former Mangoes, a restaurant with a bad attitude. I once tried their mashed potatoes and never returned. When it shut
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Restaurant Review – Smokin’ Tuna 12.21.16

Charlie Bauer is the owner of The Smokin’ Tuna. In a nutshell, more precisely, ‘neath the giant bowers of a cousin of the ficus family, The Smokin’ Tuna is a restaurant typical of Key West. Which means it’s one-of-a-kind, like everything else in this smokin’ hot holiday destination. The setting is a couple of bars under shelter of roofs, much seating in intimate groupings and a spacious
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The Producer

You smirked at the producer as you made it apparent you didn’t care if you upset his carefully oiled spiel. He was half-way through gouging some poor schlock for the funds to make yet another totally mediocre movie. The producer is a fat man, even his calves are twice the size of hams, and he wears layers of loose black. He is convinced of his own genius and forces it down the throats of those in his midsts. He
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Salty Angler 12.14.16 Reviewed in Konk Life

The Dangling Salty Digiddy Dog Angler, or whatever it’s called, the new restaurant, as of a year and a bit. The corner of Duval and Amelia has changed names more often than a wanted felon. The turn over was sometimes due to bad management (read: extreme cocaine habits) or the Feds via the Health Department (read: overrun with varmint). Therefore this corner is cursed. Can the Damned Raggedy Filthy Angling Fishe
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Say Hello

You awaken, it could be any day, at any time. The clock reads one minute after midnight and that means, after some basic calculations, it’s your birthday. Sickening thought. Officially old. You don a jacket over your ankle length nightdress and pull on a hat. You do not stop in front of the hall mirror on the way out. The lock clacks shut behind. You hide your key in a clot of threads of a banyan and carefully
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The Big Room

In the kitchen sometimes from boredom you’d open cabinets. These cabinets were empty, shelves wiped clean leavening nothing but streaks. You’d rather food, you were always hungry. There was nothing apart from curvy silver pots filled with pebbles of dark sugar to be served with coffee for guests. Guests visited often. These charades were faintly traumatizing. From when the doorbell trilled, to being dispa
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He Should Not

Cross-legged he sat on a mound of moss beside the ravine when a glinting bottle bobbed along. A bottle he recognized as the finest of local whiskeys. A favorite, and he hooked it with his walking stick. Turned out within it, downed galleon, was a letter, protected from the water with a cork from County Cork, no less. The best. The note, penned in ox-blood ink from a quill of gold flecks, spoke words to crack a man’s
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Fences

There was a tremendous noise as the patio doors blew open, and you blasted into your host’s den. Casually you strode through, except you were not alone. In bed, napping on that hot afternoon the tiger stirred and sat up and glared, wide-eyed blinking and evidently seething. You both stared, shocked, bewildered, both of you overtly disappointed.   “I’m getting my stuff,” you muttered, flustered
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