Yucka ducka ... that Friday is worthy of a full blog. You know it's been a good night when you get up the next day and find your clothing all over the house ... especially if it's not your house. Ha!
Let's see ... after work and a can of Diet Crack ... er, Diet Mountain Dew ... I had a big ol' concert in front of the computer. Covered a lot of stuff - Oasis, Sting, The Cure, English Beat, etc. The house was rockin'. I even got everyone doing a sing along to Boys Don't Cry. I got a standing O from the crowd and did two encores. A couple of women threw their panties on the stage. It was quite a sight.
And before you start, I'm fully aware that I'm a freak, a nerd and dork all rolled into one, so sod off. I'm a frorknerd! In fact, I just got through 80s dancing to some Erasure. I might do the Rick Astley dance in a bit, too. I haven't even started drinking yet. Very proud.
So, anyway, headed out to the Red House Tavern to meet up with some peeps. Red House used to be Cardwell's, which used to be something else. I can't keep track of these places. Canton is full of these cool li'l side bars, and this joint is one of them. Turns out my hip chick friend Tammie has a friend that's playing at the bar. I get there, and she's banging out Walk The Line. I find the girls, have a seat, say my hellos and I'm sitting right across from this smokin' doll. Check out this work by me, aka Casanova:
Me: Hi, I'm Jack
She: I'm Jen
Me: Flauren?
She: No, Jen
Me: Oh, I thought you said Flauren
She: No, Jen
Me: [blank]
Oh yeah, this can't miss. Actually, I think Flauren's a pretty cool name, but whatever. I give Tammie a poke, do the eye thing towards Jen, and she quickly informs me that she's off the market, lesbian style. The night is off to a flying start! I've been out all of 15 seconds, and I've already struck out ... and I didn't even get to bat!
I down a drink there, then split out to Red Fish. This is another cool joint, and the bar area is fairly crowded. Unfortunately, there are some hip chicks from the gym there, and I'm fairly certain they are too cool for me, so I had to blow that joint something speedy. I stop in at Kiss Cafe, which couldn't be more empty. Wow. How that place stays in business is anyone's guess. So, it's time to get back to the basics.
I manage to grab a seat at the front of Claddaugh, and who walks in but the hot neighbor with two friends in tow. One is her friend Leann, who I've met a few times and is a lot of fun, and the other is a newbie named ... um ... Terri! Ha! You didn't think I was gonna get that, didja ... boo yah! Terri's just moved here from San Fran, she's quite toasty, and she's bored. Imagine that - coming from SF to Baltimore, cultural center of the universe, and being bored! She's obviously insane.
I yap with the HN for a bit, watch her do a shot of Tuaca, and seriously consider hitting on Terri with this line: "You know, there's no possible way I can hit on you in this situation, but I would if I could." Unfortunately, I never get the opportunity to try it out. Hmm ... might have to keep that line handy.
Off to Portside! I walk in, and immediately bump into Whatshername. Um, the friend of Darla who I think is unbelievably hot. The friend, that is, not Darla. Darla's the one that claimed she slept with me and didn't. Anyway, turns out Darla is on a date and isn't there. Score! Problem is, I don't know Whatshername's name ... obviously ... and I don't have a way to figure it out. I'm pretty sure women don't dig being called Whatshername. Or Whatsyourname. Either/or. So, no hope there.
The best bartender in Baltimore is off work tonight. This just keeps getting better. Luckily, Steve's replaced by a good dude name Bo, who does a fine job of getting me cross eyed. The place is kinda dead ... Leah Hot walks in, but she's way too sober to be interested in me. I'm also wearing this new shirt I bought the past week, and I'm hating it.
Oh, here's a tip, chicks. When I'm hitting on ya ... you'll know it. As someone once said, I'm as subtle as a sledgehammer. Welp, this young lady is there that I know from various outings. Her nickname used to be Fun Jen, but apparently she didn't like that, so now she's just Jen. Not Flauren, mind you ... Jen. FJ is completely bombed ... she's struggling to put two words together. I offer to get her home ... now, mind you, I'm not in any way, shape, or form hitting on her, I'm just genuinely concerned for her well being. Seriously. Stop snickering. Naturally, Jen thinks I'm hitting on her. Cripes. Fortunately, some dude she knows comes by and takes her away.
Classic part of the night. Thanks to Miss Cherie for reminding me of this. She's on the scene, and we're standing around, and I say something to this young lady to my right. She looks at me, turns to the person next to her, and says "this is my boyfriend." I look over, and it's a girl. Cherie and I look at each other, back at her, and bust out laughing. Not only am I striking out, but I've got women making stuff up to avoid me.
Meantime, the HN shows up. She starts kicking me in the shins for whatever reason. Tuaca is a lovely alcohol. She also kicks me in the spot where Meano bit me, which actually sobers me up enough to offer to escort her home. She accepts, and we head out, stopping to get a pizza on the way.
As we're heading home, some dude is on his cell, walks up to us, and asks if we know where Foster Street is. We start yapping, dude's name is Amir, and he's going to a party. Um, look at me ... do I EVER turn down a party? Exactly. So, Amir's our new walkin' buddy. As we're walking, I'm dancing with the pizza. Hey, at least pizza won't reject me. Sure enough, I drop it, and it spills all over the street. Amir calls the 5 second rule and piles it back in the box. Streetza!
We get to Foster, and Amir informs us that the party is at the corner of Foster and Linwood, which is the same as telling us it's in Montreal at this point. Hasta le vista, Amir ... enjoy your streetza!
The rest of the night is pretty blurry ... or maybe I'm just saying that to throw you dawgs off the trail. Heh.
Dag, the weekend's not even half over. Tonight, it's off to Fed Hill with some dudes I used to hang with for more nonsense. Hmm ... maybe I'll meet a Flauren.
Let's see ... after work and a can of Diet Crack ... er, Diet Mountain Dew ... I had a big ol' concert in front of the computer. Covered a lot of stuff - Oasis, Sting, The Cure, English Beat, etc. The house was rockin'. I even got everyone doing a sing along to Boys Don't Cry. I got a standing O from the crowd and did two encores. A couple of women threw their panties on the stage. It was quite a sight.
And before you start, I'm fully aware that I'm a freak, a nerd and dork all rolled into one, so sod off. I'm a frorknerd! In fact, I just got through 80s dancing to some Erasure. I might do the Rick Astley dance in a bit, too. I haven't even started drinking yet. Very proud.
So, anyway, headed out to the Red House Tavern to meet up with some peeps. Red House used to be Cardwell's, which used to be something else. I can't keep track of these places. Canton is full of these cool li'l side bars, and this joint is one of them. Turns out my hip chick friend Tammie has a friend that's playing at the bar. I get there, and she's banging out Walk The Line. I find the girls, have a seat, say my hellos and I'm sitting right across from this smokin' doll. Check out this work by me, aka Casanova:
Me: Hi, I'm Jack
She: I'm Jen
Me: Flauren?
She: No, Jen
Me: Oh, I thought you said Flauren
She: No, Jen
Me: [blank]
Oh yeah, this can't miss. Actually, I think Flauren's a pretty cool name, but whatever. I give Tammie a poke, do the eye thing towards Jen, and she quickly informs me that she's off the market, lesbian style. The night is off to a flying start! I've been out all of 15 seconds, and I've already struck out ... and I didn't even get to bat!
I down a drink there, then split out to Red Fish. This is another cool joint, and the bar area is fairly crowded. Unfortunately, there are some hip chicks from the gym there, and I'm fairly certain they are too cool for me, so I had to blow that joint something speedy. I stop in at Kiss Cafe, which couldn't be more empty. Wow. How that place stays in business is anyone's guess. So, it's time to get back to the basics.
I manage to grab a seat at the front of Claddaugh, and who walks in but the hot neighbor with two friends in tow. One is her friend Leann, who I've met a few times and is a lot of fun, and the other is a newbie named ... um ... Terri! Ha! You didn't think I was gonna get that, didja ... boo yah! Terri's just moved here from San Fran, she's quite toasty, and she's bored. Imagine that - coming from SF to Baltimore, cultural center of the universe, and being bored! She's obviously insane.
I yap with the HN for a bit, watch her do a shot of Tuaca, and seriously consider hitting on Terri with this line: "You know, there's no possible way I can hit on you in this situation, but I would if I could." Unfortunately, I never get the opportunity to try it out. Hmm ... might have to keep that line handy.
Off to Portside! I walk in, and immediately bump into Whatshername. Um, the friend of Darla who I think is unbelievably hot. The friend, that is, not Darla. Darla's the one that claimed she slept with me and didn't. Anyway, turns out Darla is on a date and isn't there. Score! Problem is, I don't know Whatshername's name ... obviously ... and I don't have a way to figure it out. I'm pretty sure women don't dig being called Whatshername. Or Whatsyourname. Either/or. So, no hope there.
The best bartender in Baltimore is off work tonight. This just keeps getting better. Luckily, Steve's replaced by a good dude name Bo, who does a fine job of getting me cross eyed. The place is kinda dead ... Leah Hot walks in, but she's way too sober to be interested in me. I'm also wearing this new shirt I bought the past week, and I'm hating it.
Oh, here's a tip, chicks. When I'm hitting on ya ... you'll know it. As someone once said, I'm as subtle as a sledgehammer. Welp, this young lady is there that I know from various outings. Her nickname used to be Fun Jen, but apparently she didn't like that, so now she's just Jen. Not Flauren, mind you ... Jen. FJ is completely bombed ... she's struggling to put two words together. I offer to get her home ... now, mind you, I'm not in any way, shape, or form hitting on her, I'm just genuinely concerned for her well being. Seriously. Stop snickering. Naturally, Jen thinks I'm hitting on her. Cripes. Fortunately, some dude she knows comes by and takes her away.
Classic part of the night. Thanks to Miss Cherie for reminding me of this. She's on the scene, and we're standing around, and I say something to this young lady to my right. She looks at me, turns to the person next to her, and says "this is my boyfriend." I look over, and it's a girl. Cherie and I look at each other, back at her, and bust out laughing. Not only am I striking out, but I've got women making stuff up to avoid me.
Meantime, the HN shows up. She starts kicking me in the shins for whatever reason. Tuaca is a lovely alcohol. She also kicks me in the spot where Meano bit me, which actually sobers me up enough to offer to escort her home. She accepts, and we head out, stopping to get a pizza on the way.
As we're heading home, some dude is on his cell, walks up to us, and asks if we know where Foster Street is. We start yapping, dude's name is Amir, and he's going to a party. Um, look at me ... do I EVER turn down a party? Exactly. So, Amir's our new walkin' buddy. As we're walking, I'm dancing with the pizza. Hey, at least pizza won't reject me. Sure enough, I drop it, and it spills all over the street. Amir calls the 5 second rule and piles it back in the box. Streetza!
We get to Foster, and Amir informs us that the party is at the corner of Foster and Linwood, which is the same as telling us it's in Montreal at this point. Hasta le vista, Amir ... enjoy your streetza!
The rest of the night is pretty blurry ... or maybe I'm just saying that to throw you dawgs off the trail. Heh.
Dag, the weekend's not even half over. Tonight, it's off to Fed Hill with some dudes I used to hang with for more nonsense. Hmm ... maybe I'll meet a Flauren.
posted by AxnJxn at 11:36 AM
1 Comments:
Have you tried the new Diet Crack--er Diew Mountain Dew? They changed the formula recently so it's sweetened with Splenda. Unfortunately I think it makes it Diet Crap instead of Diet Crack now. *sigh* The end of an era. I actually went as far as to start a website and petition at fightforflavor.com to try to get the old formula back (as a new companion product if nothing else).
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