The blasted land lubber, Tim Blair, points the seagoing rapscallions towards a place for some eating called The Heart Attack Grill in dry and sandy place called Arizona.
After one of their Triple Bypass Burgers and some Flatliner Fries, even this old mermaid chaser would have to step back from the wheelhouse for a bit.
Alas, they have no ale to whet your thirst, but the wenches are mighty kind on the eyes.
That’s just down the street from where I work. I’ve been… once. The girls in the photo were definitely the A squad. I think we got the reserve C squad.