Are ya sittin' down? Be sure you're strapped in. I don't want anyone falling out of chairs and hurting themselves after you read this. Ready? Ok, here we go:

I didn't talk to a single woman in a bar this weekend. Zip. Zilch. Nada. Bupkis!

Yup. I'm still in a tad bit of shock myself, but this weekend was soooooo incredibly boring at the bars. Guess you can stop reading now, eh? Heh. Ok, so that's a tad of an exaggeration, but it was certainly down from my usual quota. Might have to go back to school or something.

Friday, got out of work at 1, and I was all kindsa fired up. Hit the gym, finished cleaning the house, and then started drinkin' and rockin'. And drinkin'. And drinkin'. And ... well, you know. I couldn't get drunk! It was the oddest thing ever. So, as I'm sure most of you know, being at bars when you're essentially sober is like being around a group of 16 year old girls at a Brittney Spears concert ... or poking yourself in the eye with a stick. Not fun.

I did start something new this past weekend. I finally figured out how to do voice recording on my cell phone (thanks Cherie!), so now I voice record stuff so that I can remember it. Let's run through this weekend's highlights!

Voice Record #1:

"The hottest woman I've ever seen surrounded by a bunch of 2s, and gum that makes me sneeze"

The woman was at Bay Cafe, and she was incredible. The rest of the bar? Awful. You know when I walk in and raise the average, that's not good. I also tried out some new sorta Dentyne gum, and every time I put in a new piece ... Sneeze City. Lemme tell ya, women dig a dude that is recording stuff on a cell phone and sneezing.

VR #2:

"The Doublemint Twins"

I'm at Claddaugh, and there are these two women there who I dubbed the Doublemint Twins. They have very similar outfits on, are just about the same size, same proportions, both blonde. It was kinda weird, like looking into a mirror or something. I actually met one of them later at Portside. She told me her name was Deborah, so I immediately dubbed her DD for Doublemint Deborah. Probably not the best nickname to give a woman outside of a strip club.

VR #3

"The SR-71 guy is gonna play a tune for us"

Ok, so I'm on the Square, and the hot neighbor forces me to come meet her at some bar. So, I leave wherever I am and start walking ... and walking ... and walking. In retrospect, I think the bar was somewhere in Delaware. I finally get there, and I immediately dub this joint the Bar of Implants. Easily the highest percentage of implants on women I've ever seen this side of a strip club (that's right, people ... two strip club references in the same blog!). I think there were maybe 12 women in there, and 8 had 'em, which by my calculations is ... well, it's a lot. Anyway, as a bonus, some dude from the band SR-71 was there.

I was actually laughing when I left the message, and I laughed again when I listened to it just now. Ok, he was actually playing a tune on the jukebox, and I spent a good 10 minutes postulating over whether he would play a SR-71 tune or not. He didn't. Yeah, I got some issues.

VR #4

"There's a girl here with earrings like fire or ... something"

Obviously, this one was a little later in the evening.

VR #5

"Mbinglet oburhsnik blentinky pang ... inglefish oont."

That's a direct quote. Obviously, this one was really late in the evening. I now understand why, when I drunk dial people and leave messages, they have no idea what I'm saying. Mumblefish.

One other note from the weekend. Apparently, the birds have decided to start their "you're up way too late in the night because we're singing and you haven't gone to bed yet" deal a little earlier this year. Like around 3:30 or so. Stupid birds.

Watched a very underrated movie from the 80s on Sunday - Teachers. Nick Nolte, Ralph Macchio, JoBeth Williams ... quality stuff.