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This semester I’ve been taking a sound communications class that’s really kicking my ass. Sine wave? What? Pro Tools? I’m allergic to technology! Other than my brilliant and incredibly patient professor, the saving grace of this class is that afterward, my study buddy and I hightail it to the Good Dog to throw back a pint, get down on some grub, and talk shop. There’s a jukebox on the first floor with some good tunes, the crowd’s a mellow mix of suits and tattoos, and the food is exceptional. I recommend the white chicken chili, which is served hot and hearty with a hunk of crispy-on-the-outside- delicious-all-over cornbread and a dusting of semi-melted cheese, which in the seven weeks straight that I’ve ordered it, has never once arrived burnt. Black and white photographs of (presumably) good dogs adorn the walls, and no matter how difficult the day’s lessons have been, I always leave optimistic. There’s nothing like cute doggie mugs, good company, and good eats to lift the spirits. Okay, yeah, and the pint helps too.
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