Woot! I just made myself a kick ass dinner. I did a steak with some teriyaki marinade, and some rice, also with the teriyaki zip. It was teriyaki night here at my joint. Well, actually, the furballs got the usual dry food, so they didn't take part in the festivities. I'm pretty sure they didn't notice. Cats hate teriyaki anyway. They also hate karaoke, and anything else that ends with -oke or -aki.
Ok, let's talk about Shoop. That's right, the song by ... who were those two chicks? Ah, Salt and Pepa. Now, Pepa was on the Surreal Life, and she's hot. I haven't the slightest idea if Salt is hot or not. If she walked up to me on the street and flicked me in the forehead, I still wouldn't know, although I would be interested. The point that I completely lost was ... Shoop ... WTF? I'm sure there's some hidden meaning to it, but it's been over a decade since that song was out, and I still don't have the scoop. For whatever reason, ol' Shoop decided to fester in my head for the last 3 days, too. Lovely!
Here's a question - what would I do with 190 million? Here goes:
- I'd buy the Pez company and eliminate lemon flavor ... actually, I'd buy the lemon company and eliminate it. Friggin' lemon.
- I'd buy an island for Andy Dick to live on with Richard Simmons ... I'd even throw in Paris Hilton so they can get some occassionally. Actually, now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure they're both asexual. Eh, Paris could use a break from being a ho anyway.
- I'd buy Tom Cruise a new religion. Freak.
- I'd buy the Chesapeake Bay, and have all the water replaced with chocolate milk. Actually, that wouldn't be much of a change - it pretty much looks like that already.
- Oh, an even better idea for the Bay. I'd buy the Pop Rocks company, and have them all dumped into the Bay at once. Just to see what would happen, ya know.
- I'd buy my gym and kick out anyone who has a conversation lasting more than 10 minutes. Yappin' fools. I'd also kick out the jarheads who don't like to rack their weights, the yutzes that don't sanitize their machines, and anyone who wears a kerchief on their head. Basically, it'd be me and about 20 women left. Perfect.
- I'd buy the Cap'n Crunch company and have all the crunch parts taken out of the Crunchberry flavor. Crunchberries only, baby! I'd also hire a team of scientists to find out where the crunchberry is harvested, and buy that island.
- I'd buy Ricardo Montalbaum, and have him stand out in front of my house. Every day, when I came home, I'd pay him to say "My friends, I am Mr. Rourke, your host! Welcome to Fantasy Island!"
- Ah, let's face it ... who am I kidding? ... I'd blow all the money on buying the Playboy Mansion and figuring out a way to get Angelina, Lauren, and Sarah Jessica to the Mansion on the same night. Ya gotta have goals, ya know.
So, the recap of the weekend. Friday night was an odd one. I had it in my head that I was going to do something new, and I set out to do just that. I started out by procuring a bottle of the new Captain Morgan flavor, Tattoo (it's grape, just like Grape Ape!), managed to kill a fairly large portion of that, then set out on the city for my new adventure. Unfortunately, all of the new things I tried were all boring. Ok, take a deep breath and follow along:
Kiss Cafe, Gin Mill, Castaways, Max's, Slainte, Koopers, Waterfront, Gin Mill, Red Fish ... at this point, I got tired of trying to do something new, because something new apparently SUCKS. So, I finished off with this ... Claddaugh's, Looney's, Mama's, Colburn's, Cosmopolitan's, Portside, Colburn's, Cosmopolitan's.
Yeah, there's some doubles in there. I think I spent all of my lottery earnings, too. Yeesh. So, the lesson - never do anything new when the same ol' stuff is more fun. Count it. I walked into Gin Mill ... both times ... to the tune of not needing all of my fingers to count the number of people in there. I also walked by a bar that I have since learned is a sports bar and a hookah bar combined ... and here I could've swore that the worst combination ever was Michael Jackson and Lisa Marie Presley. I've been corrected.
So, Saturday, I decided to do the regular rabbit noise. Started at Claddaugh's, which was excellent. Virginia Tech decided to allow Miami to break their foot off in VA Tech's ass, on national TV no less, so there were lots of Tech fans at Claddaugh, and they all wanted to buy me a shot. I'm not quite sure why, but who's going to turn down a free shot? Ok, in retrospect, I probably should've, but whatevah.
I had a little trouble seeing Portside as I approached, but I managed to stumble in. Inside, I managed to somehow walk right by the hot neighbor without seeing her, compliment a woman from the gym on the outfit she was wearing earlier at the grocery store, and tip the bartender 133% when I signed my tab.
The rest of the night is being filed away to protect the innocent ... and the not so innocent. Hee hee!
Sunday, I went to check out the movie Capote, which was one of the finer films I've seen in a long, long time. Just to warn you - it's incredibly dark and highly disturbing - but if Phillip Seymour Hoffman doesn't win the Oscar for his work in this, it's an absolute crime. I'm still a bit stunned at how good it was.
Also this weekend, the HN scored some major points by giving me a Pez dispenser, complete with strawberry, orange and, yeah, you guessed it, mofo lemon flavor. Eh, two outta three and all that. I even managed to load it without spilling Pez all over the place. I'm very proud.
Ok, let's talk about Shoop. That's right, the song by ... who were those two chicks? Ah, Salt and Pepa. Now, Pepa was on the Surreal Life, and she's hot. I haven't the slightest idea if Salt is hot or not. If she walked up to me on the street and flicked me in the forehead, I still wouldn't know, although I would be interested. The point that I completely lost was ... Shoop ... WTF? I'm sure there's some hidden meaning to it, but it's been over a decade since that song was out, and I still don't have the scoop. For whatever reason, ol' Shoop decided to fester in my head for the last 3 days, too. Lovely!
Here's a question - what would I do with 190 million? Here goes:
- I'd buy the Pez company and eliminate lemon flavor ... actually, I'd buy the lemon company and eliminate it. Friggin' lemon.
- I'd buy an island for Andy Dick to live on with Richard Simmons ... I'd even throw in Paris Hilton so they can get some occassionally. Actually, now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure they're both asexual. Eh, Paris could use a break from being a ho anyway.
- I'd buy Tom Cruise a new religion. Freak.
- I'd buy the Chesapeake Bay, and have all the water replaced with chocolate milk. Actually, that wouldn't be much of a change - it pretty much looks like that already.
- Oh, an even better idea for the Bay. I'd buy the Pop Rocks company, and have them all dumped into the Bay at once. Just to see what would happen, ya know.
- I'd buy my gym and kick out anyone who has a conversation lasting more than 10 minutes. Yappin' fools. I'd also kick out the jarheads who don't like to rack their weights, the yutzes that don't sanitize their machines, and anyone who wears a kerchief on their head. Basically, it'd be me and about 20 women left. Perfect.
- I'd buy the Cap'n Crunch company and have all the crunch parts taken out of the Crunchberry flavor. Crunchberries only, baby! I'd also hire a team of scientists to find out where the crunchberry is harvested, and buy that island.
- I'd buy Ricardo Montalbaum, and have him stand out in front of my house. Every day, when I came home, I'd pay him to say "My friends, I am Mr. Rourke, your host! Welcome to Fantasy Island!"
- Ah, let's face it ... who am I kidding? ... I'd blow all the money on buying the Playboy Mansion and figuring out a way to get Angelina, Lauren, and Sarah Jessica to the Mansion on the same night. Ya gotta have goals, ya know.
So, the recap of the weekend. Friday night was an odd one. I had it in my head that I was going to do something new, and I set out to do just that. I started out by procuring a bottle of the new Captain Morgan flavor, Tattoo (it's grape, just like Grape Ape!), managed to kill a fairly large portion of that, then set out on the city for my new adventure. Unfortunately, all of the new things I tried were all boring. Ok, take a deep breath and follow along:
Kiss Cafe, Gin Mill, Castaways, Max's, Slainte, Koopers, Waterfront, Gin Mill, Red Fish ... at this point, I got tired of trying to do something new, because something new apparently SUCKS. So, I finished off with this ... Claddaugh's, Looney's, Mama's, Colburn's, Cosmopolitan's, Portside, Colburn's, Cosmopolitan's.
Yeah, there's some doubles in there. I think I spent all of my lottery earnings, too. Yeesh. So, the lesson - never do anything new when the same ol' stuff is more fun. Count it. I walked into Gin Mill ... both times ... to the tune of not needing all of my fingers to count the number of people in there. I also walked by a bar that I have since learned is a sports bar and a hookah bar combined ... and here I could've swore that the worst combination ever was Michael Jackson and Lisa Marie Presley. I've been corrected.
So, Saturday, I decided to do the regular rabbit noise. Started at Claddaugh's, which was excellent. Virginia Tech decided to allow Miami to break their foot off in VA Tech's ass, on national TV no less, so there were lots of Tech fans at Claddaugh, and they all wanted to buy me a shot. I'm not quite sure why, but who's going to turn down a free shot? Ok, in retrospect, I probably should've, but whatevah.
I had a little trouble seeing Portside as I approached, but I managed to stumble in. Inside, I managed to somehow walk right by the hot neighbor without seeing her, compliment a woman from the gym on the outfit she was wearing earlier at the grocery store, and tip the bartender 133% when I signed my tab.
The rest of the night is being filed away to protect the innocent ... and the not so innocent. Hee hee!
Sunday, I went to check out the movie Capote, which was one of the finer films I've seen in a long, long time. Just to warn you - it's incredibly dark and highly disturbing - but if Phillip Seymour Hoffman doesn't win the Oscar for his work in this, it's an absolute crime. I'm still a bit stunned at how good it was.
Also this weekend, the HN scored some major points by giving me a Pez dispenser, complete with strawberry, orange and, yeah, you guessed it, mofo lemon flavor. Eh, two outta three and all that. I even managed to load it without spilling Pez all over the place. I'm very proud.
posted by AxnJxn at 8:29 AM
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