Ok, people, hold on to your seats. Hats. Um, hold onto something. No, no, not THAT! Never mind. So, anyway, I danced this weekend. You heard me. Danced. I'm pretty good at it, too. Or at least that's what the hottie from Philly that managed to get me on the floor told me after we were done. Dancing, that is. Man, your mind is in the gutter today! I have a thing for hot Philly women, too ... must be the dark hair/Italian/fuhgedaboudit factor, but they're hard to resist. Especially if they look hot in baseball hats.
The best part is ... [cue the trumpets] ... old Portside was back, baby! It's been gone for a bit this summer, but it had a triumphant return on Friday, and Saturday was also solid. Ah, my friend Portside ... I've missed you so. 'Course, the $100 bar tab on Saturday is something I can do without. Stupid french martini shots and hot women! They'll get ya every time.
Friday, started out at the Bay Cafe happy hour. At one point, I'm talking to this woman who is Czech or Russian or ... I dunno, one of those countries where they spell their names without any vowels. I get her number, and I realize the next day that I can't pronounce her name. At all. Hmm.
At Portside, I have an interesting conversation with ... um ... well, I'm not allowed to use anyone's name in this thing anymore, so we'll just call her Girl Interrupted. No, um, Girl D. Anyway. So, this is going way back in the blog, but many, many moons ago, Girl D's friend told me that Girl D said she slept with me, when all we did was practice kissing skills, which sorta ticked me off. I mean, if I'm rumored to be knee deep in the hoopla, I'd better actually be getting the hoopla, ya know? Turns out, Girl D thought I was saying the same thing about her. You know, this story is boring me and I'm losing interest. Let's just say we smoothed things out and move on ...
An aside ... ok, folks, we all know I love to text, but if I'm talking to hotties, it's a little tough to text as well, doncha know. I can do two things at once - drink and talk ... well, three ... sometimes, I can fall down as well. So, if I suddenly stop texting ... yeah, you can take it from there. It's a little wiggy to look down at the phone and see double digit texts waiting. Eesh. Might be time to back 'er down!
So, I'm bumbling around the Square Friday, and I run smack into an old flame. Good ol' Smaltimore. I mean, there's 1.2 million people in this city or something ... pretty good odds, eh? 'Twasn't a bad thing, though ... I got a ride home out of it, which means I didn't have to make a pizza briefcase.
Saturday, started out early at Ropewalk with some very cool peeps from an Internet message board. The highlight was when I got molested. Sorta. I'm not sure if it was a highlight or not, and I think my back still has some scratches on it. I mean, if I'm going to have a female pulling my shirt off in the middle of a bar, I'd better be getting some money out of it, ya know? Drop a couple of quarters in my pocket or something. Work with me here. Plus, it's hard to hold a drink when you have one hand keeping your shirt on and the other keeping your shorts on. Just a tip to keep handy.
Dunno what it is about Fed Hill these days but man is it lame. Jeez. I walked through a number of bars and right back out. Managed to run straight into an ex, too ... what are the odds?! Obviously, they're pretty good if it can happen twice in one night. And this ex isn't happy with me at all, so it was a bit icy. Brr.
Hopped a cab back to Canton, and the cab driver was absolutely CRANKING Madonna. Now, I dig Madonna ... she's way hot, even at 50 or whatever, and I even like some of her tunes. But, on level 11 on the volume, it can be a bit much. I think I'll have Lucky Star burned into my head for a couple of weeks.
Portside had a fine cast of characters on Saturday, including CH, Leah Hot, and as an added bonus, Leah Hot's sister, who is equally hot. We'll call her Sister Hot, because I have no idea what her name is. That's also the reason why I managed to have 6 french martini shots on my tab. Oy. I don't even know what that is ... tasted like fruit juice, but most fruit juice doesn't cost $5 for an ounce.
The rest of the night is a tad hazy. I do remember having a bit of a conversation with a deaf woman ... which was interesting. She typed, I talked. Maybe I should try that out sometime ... wouldn't slur as many words. Maybe.
Today, went shopping with the HN and another friend, and I get to study for my midterm tomorrow. Fun. The real issue is, two women want me to come to Bay Cafe tonight. Should be pretty easy to focus on studying while I'm thinking about that.
Couple of other notes:
Is there anything funnier than the 10 day weather forecast? I mean, these weather clowns can't predict what's going to happen tomorrow, and they're going to tell me what it's going to do in 10 days? That's quality comedy.
Celebretard. Saw this on a message board. It's a term for someone like Lindsay Lohan or, my personal favorite, Paris Moron ... er, Hilton. I have a feeling I might be using that one a bit.
The best part is ... [cue the trumpets] ... old Portside was back, baby! It's been gone for a bit this summer, but it had a triumphant return on Friday, and Saturday was also solid. Ah, my friend Portside ... I've missed you so. 'Course, the $100 bar tab on Saturday is something I can do without. Stupid french martini shots and hot women! They'll get ya every time.
Friday, started out at the Bay Cafe happy hour. At one point, I'm talking to this woman who is Czech or Russian or ... I dunno, one of those countries where they spell their names without any vowels. I get her number, and I realize the next day that I can't pronounce her name. At all. Hmm.
At Portside, I have an interesting conversation with ... um ... well, I'm not allowed to use anyone's name in this thing anymore, so we'll just call her Girl Interrupted. No, um, Girl D. Anyway. So, this is going way back in the blog, but many, many moons ago, Girl D's friend told me that Girl D said she slept with me, when all we did was practice kissing skills, which sorta ticked me off. I mean, if I'm rumored to be knee deep in the hoopla, I'd better actually be getting the hoopla, ya know? Turns out, Girl D thought I was saying the same thing about her. You know, this story is boring me and I'm losing interest. Let's just say we smoothed things out and move on ...
An aside ... ok, folks, we all know I love to text, but if I'm talking to hotties, it's a little tough to text as well, doncha know. I can do two things at once - drink and talk ... well, three ... sometimes, I can fall down as well. So, if I suddenly stop texting ... yeah, you can take it from there. It's a little wiggy to look down at the phone and see double digit texts waiting. Eesh. Might be time to back 'er down!
So, I'm bumbling around the Square Friday, and I run smack into an old flame. Good ol' Smaltimore. I mean, there's 1.2 million people in this city or something ... pretty good odds, eh? 'Twasn't a bad thing, though ... I got a ride home out of it, which means I didn't have to make a pizza briefcase.
Saturday, started out early at Ropewalk with some very cool peeps from an Internet message board. The highlight was when I got molested. Sorta. I'm not sure if it was a highlight or not, and I think my back still has some scratches on it. I mean, if I'm going to have a female pulling my shirt off in the middle of a bar, I'd better be getting some money out of it, ya know? Drop a couple of quarters in my pocket or something. Work with me here. Plus, it's hard to hold a drink when you have one hand keeping your shirt on and the other keeping your shorts on. Just a tip to keep handy.
Dunno what it is about Fed Hill these days but man is it lame. Jeez. I walked through a number of bars and right back out. Managed to run straight into an ex, too ... what are the odds?! Obviously, they're pretty good if it can happen twice in one night. And this ex isn't happy with me at all, so it was a bit icy. Brr.
Hopped a cab back to Canton, and the cab driver was absolutely CRANKING Madonna. Now, I dig Madonna ... she's way hot, even at 50 or whatever, and I even like some of her tunes. But, on level 11 on the volume, it can be a bit much. I think I'll have Lucky Star burned into my head for a couple of weeks.
Portside had a fine cast of characters on Saturday, including CH, Leah Hot, and as an added bonus, Leah Hot's sister, who is equally hot. We'll call her Sister Hot, because I have no idea what her name is. That's also the reason why I managed to have 6 french martini shots on my tab. Oy. I don't even know what that is ... tasted like fruit juice, but most fruit juice doesn't cost $5 for an ounce.
The rest of the night is a tad hazy. I do remember having a bit of a conversation with a deaf woman ... which was interesting. She typed, I talked. Maybe I should try that out sometime ... wouldn't slur as many words. Maybe.
Today, went shopping with the HN and another friend, and I get to study for my midterm tomorrow. Fun. The real issue is, two women want me to come to Bay Cafe tonight. Should be pretty easy to focus on studying while I'm thinking about that.
Couple of other notes:
Is there anything funnier than the 10 day weather forecast? I mean, these weather clowns can't predict what's going to happen tomorrow, and they're going to tell me what it's going to do in 10 days? That's quality comedy.
Celebretard. Saw this on a message board. It's a term for someone like Lindsay Lohan or, my personal favorite, Paris Moron ... er, Hilton. I have a feeling I might be using that one a bit.
posted by AxnJxn at 6:55 PM
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