Ok, break out your cracked ass jokes, cuz I've got one. We'll get back to that in a bit, but hold that thought ... or forget about it, and I'll remind you. I'm not picky.
Let's see ... Friday night ... we're in search of a decent place to go for happy hour. Tried Looney's , which wasn't too bad price-wise. 'Course, my question after going there is where do women go for happy hour? I seem to be developing this knack for finding places without women. Not a good knack. I'd like to get rid of that knack, in fact. I wouldn't mind being knack-less.
Went home after happy hour, and took a nice, long hot shower. The one good thing I like about winter (and there aren't many things) is hot showers. The bad thing about winter? Getting out of hot showers. Bleh. 'Course, I made sure I had a nice drink in the shower with me. I'd hate to sober up.
So, we hit some place in Federal Hill, and I'm standing around in the bar, and this woman comes up to me and tells me that I look like "the gay guy on the Real World". Unfortunately, I sorta skimmed the first episode just too see how the girls look, so I didn't really know if this was a compliment or not, so I just sorta gave her a blank look. It's entirely possible that I was too drunk to process this information, too. Hmm. There was very little progression in our conversation after that.
An aside ... speaking of the Real World, this Svetlana girl is way hot. Jeez. She's also 19. I personally think that no women under 21 should be allowed to look that good. That should be a law. She also wears hoop earrings. If she puts on a choker, I'm ... well, I have no idea what I'm going to do, I'm just a huge fan of hoops and chokers, especially on unbelievably attractive brunettes. Probably best to move on from this subject.
The rest of Friday was fairly tame. I did check out the karaoke joint, where I ran into two people I know. There was Miles, who was so drunk he couldn't see me, and Mark, who was completely sober (not a good state of being in that bar). Mark bought me a drink, which was cool. Miles ... well, Miles did what he usually does ... speak in some language that's close to English and scare off women. Split there, then I delivered some pizza from Maria D's to a friend late night, and crashed pretty hard.
Saturday, the entire day was planned around college hoop, as it will be for the next few weekends. Started working on the shampoo buzz at around 8. Had a shower, a nice long rock concert (learned to play the Tom Petty song "Wildflowers", which is just a cool song in general), then decided to skip all foreplay and go straight to Portside.
One of the odder nights there. I'll try to keep this story short, but it may bloat a tad. A few months ago, I met a young lady there named Darla. At one point in the convo, I got her number, but after that, the whole thing seemed to go kinda downhill. Hard to pinpoint why (one of those chemistry sorta things), but it just did, so I didn't end up calling her. Cut to Friday night. I'm in Magerk's, and I see this woman who I think is pretty toasty. I mention that to one of the ladies we're with, and she immediately grabs my hand, drags me over to the woman, and introduces us. Now, THAT'S being a wingwoman ... well, it's actually a little over the top, but still fun.
Anyway, right after the intro, Darla runs up, grabs this woman's arm, and drags her away. I didn't really recognize Darla, since I've only met her one time and it was a few months ago, and I think she got a little ticked about that. Sheesh. End of that part of the story.
Cut to Saturday. I'm in Portside putzing around, and the woman from Friday night that I find quite toasty comes up and mentions that she met me last night. I don't remember all of the details of our conversation (things got a little fuzzy after the Duke/NC game), but at one point, she mentioned that Darla said we slept together. WTF? I'm pretty sure those letters popped out on my forehead. I spent most of the rest of the night puzzling over this, and I don't puzzle well. In fact, I'm a really poor puzzler, and puzzling usually doesn't make me happy.
So, I ended up heading home, and this is where the cracked ass part comes into play. I'm walking down my stairs to get water or another hit of heroin or something, and right towards the bottom, I slipped and landed right on my hip. Ok, it wasn't my ass, but it sounds funnier that way. It was pretty comical at the time, and it still is ... except for the huge bruise I have on my hip. No wimping around on this baby - it's dark purple. Sweet!
'Course, I blame it all on Darla. Heh. Oh, the final beauty - I drove my car to the Square, then took a cab home on Saturday. Walked out Monday to go to work, and realized I had forgotten to pick up my car on Sunday. Kwality stuff! Nuttin' like a 10 block walk on a crisp Monday morning with a bruised hip. Hooah!
Listen to "Love Is (What I Say)" by INXS and you'll understand why I miss Michael Hutchence so much. What an incredible presence his voice brought to their music. He will never, ever, ever, ever be replaced. You hear me, remaining members of INXS and fake lead singer?! NEVER!
The New Adventures of Old Christine. What a horrendous name for a show. I mean, seriously, I would just love to be in the room when people think this stuff up, just to see which dopes really think it's a good idea. All those brilliant ideas, like giving Ashlee Simpson a reality show, feeding the tuna fish mayonnaise, and all that stuff.
Speaking of Simpsons, the video for "These Boots Are Made For Walking" by Jessica Simpson is quite the watch. I stood in the gym and just stared at the screen slack jawed when it was on the other day. The great thing about that was I had my iPod on, so I didn't have to hear the song, because it's one of the worst remakes I've ever heard. Just awful stuff. I'd rather poke myself in the eye with a stick than listen to that song.
Let's see ... Friday night ... we're in search of a decent place to go for happy hour. Tried Looney's , which wasn't too bad price-wise. 'Course, my question after going there is where do women go for happy hour? I seem to be developing this knack for finding places without women. Not a good knack. I'd like to get rid of that knack, in fact. I wouldn't mind being knack-less.
Went home after happy hour, and took a nice, long hot shower. The one good thing I like about winter (and there aren't many things) is hot showers. The bad thing about winter? Getting out of hot showers. Bleh. 'Course, I made sure I had a nice drink in the shower with me. I'd hate to sober up.
So, we hit some place in Federal Hill, and I'm standing around in the bar, and this woman comes up to me and tells me that I look like "the gay guy on the Real World". Unfortunately, I sorta skimmed the first episode just too see how the girls look, so I didn't really know if this was a compliment or not, so I just sorta gave her a blank look. It's entirely possible that I was too drunk to process this information, too. Hmm. There was very little progression in our conversation after that.
An aside ... speaking of the Real World, this Svetlana girl is way hot. Jeez. She's also 19. I personally think that no women under 21 should be allowed to look that good. That should be a law. She also wears hoop earrings. If she puts on a choker, I'm ... well, I have no idea what I'm going to do, I'm just a huge fan of hoops and chokers, especially on unbelievably attractive brunettes. Probably best to move on from this subject.
The rest of Friday was fairly tame. I did check out the karaoke joint, where I ran into two people I know. There was Miles, who was so drunk he couldn't see me, and Mark, who was completely sober (not a good state of being in that bar). Mark bought me a drink, which was cool. Miles ... well, Miles did what he usually does ... speak in some language that's close to English and scare off women. Split there, then I delivered some pizza from Maria D's to a friend late night, and crashed pretty hard.
Saturday, the entire day was planned around college hoop, as it will be for the next few weekends. Started working on the shampoo buzz at around 8. Had a shower, a nice long rock concert (learned to play the Tom Petty song "Wildflowers", which is just a cool song in general), then decided to skip all foreplay and go straight to Portside.
One of the odder nights there. I'll try to keep this story short, but it may bloat a tad. A few months ago, I met a young lady there named Darla. At one point in the convo, I got her number, but after that, the whole thing seemed to go kinda downhill. Hard to pinpoint why (one of those chemistry sorta things), but it just did, so I didn't end up calling her. Cut to Friday night. I'm in Magerk's, and I see this woman who I think is pretty toasty. I mention that to one of the ladies we're with, and she immediately grabs my hand, drags me over to the woman, and introduces us. Now, THAT'S being a wingwoman ... well, it's actually a little over the top, but still fun.
Anyway, right after the intro, Darla runs up, grabs this woman's arm, and drags her away. I didn't really recognize Darla, since I've only met her one time and it was a few months ago, and I think she got a little ticked about that. Sheesh. End of that part of the story.
Cut to Saturday. I'm in Portside putzing around, and the woman from Friday night that I find quite toasty comes up and mentions that she met me last night. I don't remember all of the details of our conversation (things got a little fuzzy after the Duke/NC game), but at one point, she mentioned that Darla said we slept together. WTF? I'm pretty sure those letters popped out on my forehead. I spent most of the rest of the night puzzling over this, and I don't puzzle well. In fact, I'm a really poor puzzler, and puzzling usually doesn't make me happy.
So, I ended up heading home, and this is where the cracked ass part comes into play. I'm walking down my stairs to get water or another hit of heroin or something, and right towards the bottom, I slipped and landed right on my hip. Ok, it wasn't my ass, but it sounds funnier that way. It was pretty comical at the time, and it still is ... except for the huge bruise I have on my hip. No wimping around on this baby - it's dark purple. Sweet!
'Course, I blame it all on Darla. Heh. Oh, the final beauty - I drove my car to the Square, then took a cab home on Saturday. Walked out Monday to go to work, and realized I had forgotten to pick up my car on Sunday. Kwality stuff! Nuttin' like a 10 block walk on a crisp Monday morning with a bruised hip. Hooah!
Listen to "Love Is (What I Say)" by INXS and you'll understand why I miss Michael Hutchence so much. What an incredible presence his voice brought to their music. He will never, ever, ever, ever be replaced. You hear me, remaining members of INXS and fake lead singer?! NEVER!
The New Adventures of Old Christine. What a horrendous name for a show. I mean, seriously, I would just love to be in the room when people think this stuff up, just to see which dopes really think it's a good idea. All those brilliant ideas, like giving Ashlee Simpson a reality show, feeding the tuna fish mayonnaise, and all that stuff.
Speaking of Simpsons, the video for "These Boots Are Made For Walking" by Jessica Simpson is quite the watch. I stood in the gym and just stared at the screen slack jawed when it was on the other day. The great thing about that was I had my iPod on, so I didn't have to hear the song, because it's one of the worst remakes I've ever heard. Just awful stuff. I'd rather poke myself in the eye with a stick than listen to that song.
posted by AxnJxn at 11:11 AM
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