Could you imagine the debauchery those walls saw? Don't they say one in three hotel rooms somebody has died in? You can taste the carpet filth emanating from the photo sixty years later. But I'd eat a meal off them in a heartbeat to go back, naked as time travel requires, like the Terminator or Starman. I'd walk in the lobby wrapped in a white towel, order a fifth of Wild Turkey before demanding their clothes and money, and get the fuck out of Duluth.
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It’s been a year and a half since Perfect Duluth Day last ran a “best new restaurant” poll. The reigning...
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