Hmm. This could be a tricky blog. Why? Because I'm having a bit of trouble remembering a good portion of Saturday night. I'm quite proud!
Ok, let's start with some generic fun. The hot neighbor had one of these sex toy parties awhile back. I think I may have mentioned it, because I stopped by for the food. As I'm sure you've all figured out by now, I have zero interest in a house full of attractive women with a bunch of sex toys. I'm all about nutrition.
So, anyway, I managed to get my hands on this piece of comedy. It's instructions for some of the toys. I'll give you a few of the more hilarious exerpts:
Keep SUPER STRETCH away from other toys. Let it air after cleaning before storing it.
If you bought the BEADED SUPER STRETCH, you can take two beads out and put a bullet in and give him a buzz!
DOUBLE TROUBLE should have plenty of lubrication on the ring before you slide it on the shaft. Position the bunny ears on top of his toolman and the other set of bunny ears underneath.
Don't forget we offer HIDE A VIBE PILLOWS to hide your toys from prying eyes.
Naturally, I have plenty of comments on this stuff. F'rinstance ...
- BUNNY EARS?! No, wait, TWO sets of bunny ears!? Um ... I think I need to take a sex education course, cuz I've never done anything in bed that involved the Leporidaes family.
- What, exactly, is SUPER STRETCH going to do to the other toys?
- And finally, now I'll be checking all the pillows for "hide a vibes" (doesn't that sound like a candy you'd buy at the movies or something?) whenever I go to any female's house.
Ok, let's start with some Voice Recordings.
VR#1:
"Prop, P-R-O-P, Talk, T-A-L-K ... PropTalk! For boaters everywhere!"
That's right. There's a magazine in the Bay Cafe called PropTalk. I think that joke writes itself.
VR#2:
"Some clown just blocked out the sun in Portside"
Had a little trouble understanding this one, mainly because I recorded it at 1:38 in the am, which is right about the time I abandon English as my native language. I finally figured it out ... there's this dude that comes to Portside sometimes, and he's gotta be somewhere around 9 feet tall. It's a little ... mmm, no a lot ... comical. I keep expecting him to start changing the light bulbs or to put the star on the tree like the Bumble in Rudolph.
VR#3:
Hmm. I'm not going to quote this one, cuz it's kinda mean. Let's just say that the World's Ugliest Bachelorette Party walked into one of the locations I was frequenting. I'm sure it was the World's Best Personality Bachelorette Party, though.
VR#4:
"Fat boy is in the way. Damnit."
I think I was just in a bad mood overall on Saturday. We'll come back to the mood later, but this dude was blocking out half the bar, including my view of a very hot young woman. We all know how much I dislike my views of hot women being blocked.
So, Friday, we started at the Bay Cafe for the usual nonsense, then went to Claddaugh for the usual nonsense, then went to Portside for the usual nonsense. How's that for a recap! Ok, there were a few things tossed in there for excitement. At Claddaugh, some of friends are totally setting me up with this woman across the bar. As they are working this, some other friends decide to bring the hot neighbor over as well. Worlds are colliding! At one point, I'm talking to the HN, and the woman across the bar is calling me on my cell because she wants to meet me by the coffee pots in the back of the bar. Crimeny.
The rest of that story doesn't really go very far. Basically, the HN splits, the other woman comes with me to Portside, and she gets blitzed. She's so bombed that at one point I go to the bathroom, come back, and some dude is talking to her, and I just let him keep on. Done and done.
Later, this hecka hot woman named Victoria (the name will be important in a bit) drags me out to the dance floor. Psst ... I don't really dance. No, really, I pretty much don't. It's got to be the perfect situation with the perfect song or I have to be completely and totally alone and drunk. Otherwise, it's pretty much a no dancing rule in my life. So, we get to the dance floor, and I sorta stand there. It's my best move ... I like to call it the Fonzie. It takes about 30 seconds for her to get pissed. So, that went pretty well overall.
The name's important because I know her name. I've got it nailed. As soon as she told it to me on Friday, Victoria's Secret pops into my mind. Remembering this name is going to be easy. So, can someone explain to me why it is that when I saw her on Saturday night, I called her Valerie? Sing along with me ... smooth as sandpaper! Actually, I think it's more like smooth as broken glass with chunks of asphalt.
At that point, I started to get the feeling any chance I have with Victoria is likely gone. I think this is when I started to get a tad grumpy, also.
The rest of Saturday is pretty blurry, but I do remember two gems:
1) At one point, I decided to ask Lindsey, who is the girl I went on a date with months back (and whose name I still don't know if I'm spelling correctly), if she was ok. I mentioned that I noticed she seems very depressed and if she needs to talk, I've got good ears. After midnight in a bar is always a good time to show concern for someone, but seriously, my intentions were good. Apparently, I have a tendency to obsess when I think people are in pain. Go figure.
2) Shortly after that, this dude she's either dating or ... whatever ... comes up to me, points to Lindsey, and utters this classy line: "Why don't you just go f*** her?"
Yah, that was pretty much the end of the night for me. I did manage to come up with a fantastic invention, though. On the way home, I grab a pizza. Now, the pizza box is a tad too big to carry under your arm, and it doesn't look all that cool to carry it any other way. Luckily, Captain Morgan has lubricated my inventive powers.
The pizza briefcase is born.
I fold the box, with the pizza inside, so that I can carry it in one hand, like a briefcase. Evidently, I was quite proud of this invention, because the hot neighbor noted that I shouted it to the entire block when I got home. Note to self ... she also doesn't care for folded pizza.
Ok, let's start with some generic fun. The hot neighbor had one of these sex toy parties awhile back. I think I may have mentioned it, because I stopped by for the food. As I'm sure you've all figured out by now, I have zero interest in a house full of attractive women with a bunch of sex toys. I'm all about nutrition.
So, anyway, I managed to get my hands on this piece of comedy. It's instructions for some of the toys. I'll give you a few of the more hilarious exerpts:
Keep SUPER STRETCH away from other toys. Let it air after cleaning before storing it.
If you bought the BEADED SUPER STRETCH, you can take two beads out and put a bullet in and give him a buzz!
DOUBLE TROUBLE should have plenty of lubrication on the ring before you slide it on the shaft. Position the bunny ears on top of his toolman and the other set of bunny ears underneath.
Don't forget we offer HIDE A VIBE PILLOWS to hide your toys from prying eyes.
Naturally, I have plenty of comments on this stuff. F'rinstance ...
- BUNNY EARS?! No, wait, TWO sets of bunny ears!? Um ... I think I need to take a sex education course, cuz I've never done anything in bed that involved the Leporidaes family.
- What, exactly, is SUPER STRETCH going to do to the other toys?
- And finally, now I'll be checking all the pillows for "hide a vibes" (doesn't that sound like a candy you'd buy at the movies or something?) whenever I go to any female's house.
Ok, let's start with some Voice Recordings.
VR#1:
"Prop, P-R-O-P, Talk, T-A-L-K ... PropTalk! For boaters everywhere!"
That's right. There's a magazine in the Bay Cafe called PropTalk. I think that joke writes itself.
VR#2:
"Some clown just blocked out the sun in Portside"
Had a little trouble understanding this one, mainly because I recorded it at 1:38 in the am, which is right about the time I abandon English as my native language. I finally figured it out ... there's this dude that comes to Portside sometimes, and he's gotta be somewhere around 9 feet tall. It's a little ... mmm, no a lot ... comical. I keep expecting him to start changing the light bulbs or to put the star on the tree like the Bumble in Rudolph.
VR#3:
Hmm. I'm not going to quote this one, cuz it's kinda mean. Let's just say that the World's Ugliest Bachelorette Party walked into one of the locations I was frequenting. I'm sure it was the World's Best Personality Bachelorette Party, though.
VR#4:
"Fat boy is in the way. Damnit."
I think I was just in a bad mood overall on Saturday. We'll come back to the mood later, but this dude was blocking out half the bar, including my view of a very hot young woman. We all know how much I dislike my views of hot women being blocked.
So, Friday, we started at the Bay Cafe for the usual nonsense, then went to Claddaugh for the usual nonsense, then went to Portside for the usual nonsense. How's that for a recap! Ok, there were a few things tossed in there for excitement. At Claddaugh, some of friends are totally setting me up with this woman across the bar. As they are working this, some other friends decide to bring the hot neighbor over as well. Worlds are colliding! At one point, I'm talking to the HN, and the woman across the bar is calling me on my cell because she wants to meet me by the coffee pots in the back of the bar. Crimeny.
The rest of that story doesn't really go very far. Basically, the HN splits, the other woman comes with me to Portside, and she gets blitzed. She's so bombed that at one point I go to the bathroom, come back, and some dude is talking to her, and I just let him keep on. Done and done.
Later, this hecka hot woman named Victoria (the name will be important in a bit) drags me out to the dance floor. Psst ... I don't really dance. No, really, I pretty much don't. It's got to be the perfect situation with the perfect song or I have to be completely and totally alone and drunk. Otherwise, it's pretty much a no dancing rule in my life. So, we get to the dance floor, and I sorta stand there. It's my best move ... I like to call it the Fonzie. It takes about 30 seconds for her to get pissed. So, that went pretty well overall.
The name's important because I know her name. I've got it nailed. As soon as she told it to me on Friday, Victoria's Secret pops into my mind. Remembering this name is going to be easy. So, can someone explain to me why it is that when I saw her on Saturday night, I called her Valerie? Sing along with me ... smooth as sandpaper! Actually, I think it's more like smooth as broken glass with chunks of asphalt.
At that point, I started to get the feeling any chance I have with Victoria is likely gone. I think this is when I started to get a tad grumpy, also.
The rest of Saturday is pretty blurry, but I do remember two gems:
1) At one point, I decided to ask Lindsey, who is the girl I went on a date with months back (and whose name I still don't know if I'm spelling correctly), if she was ok. I mentioned that I noticed she seems very depressed and if she needs to talk, I've got good ears. After midnight in a bar is always a good time to show concern for someone, but seriously, my intentions were good. Apparently, I have a tendency to obsess when I think people are in pain. Go figure.
2) Shortly after that, this dude she's either dating or ... whatever ... comes up to me, points to Lindsey, and utters this classy line: "Why don't you just go f*** her?"
Yah, that was pretty much the end of the night for me. I did manage to come up with a fantastic invention, though. On the way home, I grab a pizza. Now, the pizza box is a tad too big to carry under your arm, and it doesn't look all that cool to carry it any other way. Luckily, Captain Morgan has lubricated my inventive powers.
The pizza briefcase is born.
I fold the box, with the pizza inside, so that I can carry it in one hand, like a briefcase. Evidently, I was quite proud of this invention, because the hot neighbor noted that I shouted it to the entire block when I got home. Note to self ... she also doesn't care for folded pizza.
posted by AxnJxn at 6:52 PM
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