A'ight, we're going to do this blog in bullet form, because I'm weird. I may go into some of this stuff in more detail later, but here's just a taste of the nonsense I got myself into this weekend:
- I got bit by a little long haired hot dog named Nemo ... or Nano ... or Nino ... or something like that. His name should be Meano - he put a nice sized nick in my shin. After he calmed down, we became buddies ... and I found out when you pet him and he gets really happy, he tends to whizz on you. Friggin' hot dogs! Lemme tell ya ... chicks dig a dude that smells like pup urine.
- This little dude, when asked what he wanted to drink at a diner, replied "Sausage". Chunky and I looked at each other, and Chunky deadpanned "... and he wasn't even drinking last night." Classic.
- I watched a dude do karaoke in Vietnamese ... at least I think it was Vietnamese ...
- I was pitched the idea of marrying a woman for $15,000, and at the time, I thought it was the smartest idea ever.
- I found out I've been calling this toasty girl from my gym by the wrong name since the first day I met her, which was ... oh ... about a year ago. I see her pretty much on a weekly basis. Katie, Kelly ... eh, it starts with the same letter! Smooth as sandpaper, me.
- I made at least 3 phone calls from the bathroom of The Horse.
- I managed to send text messages to the wrong women for the last couple of hours of Saturday night. It was literally as if I rotated all their phone numbers. I blame it on the Daylight Savings thingy.
- At a party, I completely spilled my full drink not once but twice. Chicks dig a spiller. Make a note of that.
Ok, so Little Saigon. My friend Chunky is married to this li'l Vietnamese hottie who we call The Chop. Now, Chunky is average height for a dude, somewhere around 5'9", but when he goes to visit her family, he's the tallest person there, and we're talking about a pretty big family. Well, that's where we went for the party.
We're get there, and it's chow time, and I was in heaven. I love Asian food in general, and I'm looking at egg rolls, soup, noodles ... fuhgedaboudit. They sent some 20+ egg rolls home with me, and they're already gone. Homemade egg rolls are the shiznit, yo.
After chow, we start drinking and chatting. Well, Ricky and I are chatting ... everyone else is speaking Vietnamese. Then, it happens ... out comes the microphone. Fortunately, it was only used for one song, but it was a classic. It was some sort of sappy song, sort of a Vietnamese version of Celine Dion, and we were able to follow along with the words. At one point, we look over at The Chop, and she notes that she doesn't even know what language it is. Good stuff.
I'm also thinking of using the sun as my reverse alarm clock. Seems that I have a tendency to go to bed when it comes up. Ugh. I also realized that the next day, I look very similar to Robert Smith of The Cure ... white face, red lips. It's a real pretty look, lemme tell ya.
Saturday was a really fast blur. We hit Gecko's for a few drinks and a nasty shot of some Irish whiskey from Nick the owner ... I'm shuddering just thinking about that. Then, it was off to the Horse to see Ed and Frank. Ed gave me my usual dose of Weezer. I went to tip him, and when I dropped the $5 in the bucket, he missed it. So, had to do it again ... and he missed it again. Nothing like a $15 tip for some Weezer. Cripes.
I also ran into some old buddies, including Kevin from the band formerly known as Sometimes Jerome. I have no idea what they are called now, and Kevin couldn't really see me, so I never got an answer from him. He was standing there, and I was talking to him and he was responding, but I think the blackberry brandy was taking over by then. It's always interesting when you're drunk, and you realize someone is extra drunk.
After that, it was off to Portside, and then the Meano dog bite peein' fiasco. The real question is, if I start foaming at the mouth, will anyone notice? Hmm ... stay tuned ...
- I got bit by a little long haired hot dog named Nemo ... or Nano ... or Nino ... or something like that. His name should be Meano - he put a nice sized nick in my shin. After he calmed down, we became buddies ... and I found out when you pet him and he gets really happy, he tends to whizz on you. Friggin' hot dogs! Lemme tell ya ... chicks dig a dude that smells like pup urine.
- This little dude, when asked what he wanted to drink at a diner, replied "Sausage". Chunky and I looked at each other, and Chunky deadpanned "... and he wasn't even drinking last night." Classic.
- I watched a dude do karaoke in Vietnamese ... at least I think it was Vietnamese ...
- I was pitched the idea of marrying a woman for $15,000, and at the time, I thought it was the smartest idea ever.
- I found out I've been calling this toasty girl from my gym by the wrong name since the first day I met her, which was ... oh ... about a year ago. I see her pretty much on a weekly basis. Katie, Kelly ... eh, it starts with the same letter! Smooth as sandpaper, me.
- I made at least 3 phone calls from the bathroom of The Horse.
- I managed to send text messages to the wrong women for the last couple of hours of Saturday night. It was literally as if I rotated all their phone numbers. I blame it on the Daylight Savings thingy.
- At a party, I completely spilled my full drink not once but twice. Chicks dig a spiller. Make a note of that.
Ok, so Little Saigon. My friend Chunky is married to this li'l Vietnamese hottie who we call The Chop. Now, Chunky is average height for a dude, somewhere around 5'9", but when he goes to visit her family, he's the tallest person there, and we're talking about a pretty big family. Well, that's where we went for the party.
We're get there, and it's chow time, and I was in heaven. I love Asian food in general, and I'm looking at egg rolls, soup, noodles ... fuhgedaboudit. They sent some 20+ egg rolls home with me, and they're already gone. Homemade egg rolls are the shiznit, yo.
After chow, we start drinking and chatting. Well, Ricky and I are chatting ... everyone else is speaking Vietnamese. Then, it happens ... out comes the microphone. Fortunately, it was only used for one song, but it was a classic. It was some sort of sappy song, sort of a Vietnamese version of Celine Dion, and we were able to follow along with the words. At one point, we look over at The Chop, and she notes that she doesn't even know what language it is. Good stuff.
I'm also thinking of using the sun as my reverse alarm clock. Seems that I have a tendency to go to bed when it comes up. Ugh. I also realized that the next day, I look very similar to Robert Smith of The Cure ... white face, red lips. It's a real pretty look, lemme tell ya.
Saturday was a really fast blur. We hit Gecko's for a few drinks and a nasty shot of some Irish whiskey from Nick the owner ... I'm shuddering just thinking about that. Then, it was off to the Horse to see Ed and Frank. Ed gave me my usual dose of Weezer. I went to tip him, and when I dropped the $5 in the bucket, he missed it. So, had to do it again ... and he missed it again. Nothing like a $15 tip for some Weezer. Cripes.
I also ran into some old buddies, including Kevin from the band formerly known as Sometimes Jerome. I have no idea what they are called now, and Kevin couldn't really see me, so I never got an answer from him. He was standing there, and I was talking to him and he was responding, but I think the blackberry brandy was taking over by then. It's always interesting when you're drunk, and you realize someone is extra drunk.
After that, it was off to Portside, and then the Meano dog bite peein' fiasco. The real question is, if I start foaming at the mouth, will anyone notice? Hmm ... stay tuned ...
posted by AxnJxn at 11:18 AM
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