Was checking out the City Paper holiday guide yesterday, and there's a very interesting gift in there. It's called the MiBod or ... um ... something like that. It's a vibrator with an iPod attached, and it vibrates to the beat of the song playing. Naturally, I have a question. Actually, I have a couple of questions. Hmm ... now that I think about it, I have a ton of questions ... and most of them are in reference to music involving Boy George. Let's just move on.
Another hecka fun weekend! Friday I did ... something ... lemme think ... eh, who cares, let's just get to the notes:
"Girl kicks me - who is she?"
... and the beauty is ... I still don't know! I'm not even sure why I write these things down sometimes. To remind me of my awful memory, of course.
"I'm the perfect age for Bon Jovi"
Not really sure what this one means, either. I'm just really, really hopeful that someone wasn't trying to set me up with him. Yeah. That likely wouldn't be a good thing.
I basically had an entire relationship this weekend ... and I did it via text messaging! I'm quite proud. The courtship, the breakup, it was all on there. Quite hilarious. Last message sent "Nice knowing ya ...", response "Ditto." Heh.
Saturday, met some friends in Fed Hill. These friends like to go to Cross Street, and Cross Street only serves beer and wine. So, to combat this, I buy a couple of those little airplane bottles at the liquor store and get a Diet Coke (this is all top secret info, of course ... don't make me send my henchmen/henchcats over to your place to rough you up when you spill the beans). Three trips to the liquor store later ... jeez ... yeah, I had a pretty good buzz going when we finally left, and the liquor store clerks couldn't figure out why I started tipping them.
From there, we went to Mad River. It was early, so it hadn't turned into the Floating Bar of Cheese that happens around 10 or so. Can I also say that Mad River has the most ridiculously priced drinks in town? I think. I'm not really sure how many I ordered for myself or for my friends, but a $100+ bar tab is a little ridiculous for 90 minutes. Put it this way ... my tab at Portside for a 3 hour stay later on was ... well, when the tab comes there, I'm usually seeing triple, but it was a whole lot less than that. Stupid Mad River.
The list of bars after that nonsense is a little long. It's easier to tell you where I didn't go ... Ropewalk and Mother's. Yup, I think that about covers it.
Here's something from the What the frick is wrong with people? category. I'm in a waiting room yesterday and this dude is in there filling out paperwork. He's got some sort of hard candy, and dude is sucking and smacking on it so loud, I thought I was in Paris Hilton's car. As if that's not enough, he's listening to music on headphones, and he's humming it ... loudly. I even gave him a nickname ... The Annoying Senor Suckitude. That's right ... ASS.
Just a thought here ... 69 is a cool number, dude (I'm doing the surfer sign with my hand right now, by the by) ... unless it's your test score. Friggin' Accounting. So, to recap, I set the curve on my Macro exam, the one that I thought I would struggle with, and I halfway tanked the Accounting exam, the one I thought was easier than Tara Reid. Newman!
Cat nonsense. I slept in a tad this morning because I was headed to the dentist for a checkup. Naturally, both furheads hopped up on the bed and reminded me right in my face that breakfast was late. Even more naturally, I grabbed each one individually and gave them hugs - they hate to be hugged ... it's hilarious, and a fairly easy way to get rid of them for a bit. So, please explain why it is that when I finally dragged myself out of bed and went downstairs, only one clown showed? I found the other clown sitting in the bathroom. Apparently, if breakfast is late, it's served in the bathroom. Make a note of that.
Another hecka fun weekend! Friday I did ... something ... lemme think ... eh, who cares, let's just get to the notes:
"Girl kicks me - who is she?"
... and the beauty is ... I still don't know! I'm not even sure why I write these things down sometimes. To remind me of my awful memory, of course.
"I'm the perfect age for Bon Jovi"
Not really sure what this one means, either. I'm just really, really hopeful that someone wasn't trying to set me up with him. Yeah. That likely wouldn't be a good thing.
I basically had an entire relationship this weekend ... and I did it via text messaging! I'm quite proud. The courtship, the breakup, it was all on there. Quite hilarious. Last message sent "Nice knowing ya ...", response "Ditto." Heh.
Saturday, met some friends in Fed Hill. These friends like to go to Cross Street, and Cross Street only serves beer and wine. So, to combat this, I buy a couple of those little airplane bottles at the liquor store and get a Diet Coke (this is all top secret info, of course ... don't make me send my henchmen/henchcats over to your place to rough you up when you spill the beans). Three trips to the liquor store later ... jeez ... yeah, I had a pretty good buzz going when we finally left, and the liquor store clerks couldn't figure out why I started tipping them.
From there, we went to Mad River. It was early, so it hadn't turned into the Floating Bar of Cheese that happens around 10 or so. Can I also say that Mad River has the most ridiculously priced drinks in town? I think. I'm not really sure how many I ordered for myself or for my friends, but a $100+ bar tab is a little ridiculous for 90 minutes. Put it this way ... my tab at Portside for a 3 hour stay later on was ... well, when the tab comes there, I'm usually seeing triple, but it was a whole lot less than that. Stupid Mad River.
The list of bars after that nonsense is a little long. It's easier to tell you where I didn't go ... Ropewalk and Mother's. Yup, I think that about covers it.
Here's something from the What the frick is wrong with people? category. I'm in a waiting room yesterday and this dude is in there filling out paperwork. He's got some sort of hard candy, and dude is sucking and smacking on it so loud, I thought I was in Paris Hilton's car. As if that's not enough, he's listening to music on headphones, and he's humming it ... loudly. I even gave him a nickname ... The Annoying Senor Suckitude. That's right ... ASS.
Just a thought here ... 69 is a cool number, dude (I'm doing the surfer sign with my hand right now, by the by) ... unless it's your test score. Friggin' Accounting. So, to recap, I set the curve on my Macro exam, the one that I thought I would struggle with, and I halfway tanked the Accounting exam, the one I thought was easier than Tara Reid. Newman!
Cat nonsense. I slept in a tad this morning because I was headed to the dentist for a checkup. Naturally, both furheads hopped up on the bed and reminded me right in my face that breakfast was late. Even more naturally, I grabbed each one individually and gave them hugs - they hate to be hugged ... it's hilarious, and a fairly easy way to get rid of them for a bit. So, please explain why it is that when I finally dragged myself out of bed and went downstairs, only one clown showed? I found the other clown sitting in the bathroom. Apparently, if breakfast is late, it's served in the bathroom. Make a note of that.
posted by AxnJxn at 9:25 AM
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