Ok, so Stoney's, the country bar was very entertaining. There were ALL kinds there. I mean, some dude with a MOhawk, one or two black folks and a bunch of wannabe rednecks. I felt right at home.
We started slinging back drinks and a $1 a piece, can you really blame me? Julie, the maid of honor who God bless her, looks like Ms. Munster + 300 lbs., told me that the owners of the bar were giving her and Jen a bull ride. Well, that did it. I was like, "Wait. There's a bull? I gotta ride it. Where is it? Wait. They don't like announce that people are gonna ride it do they? I gotta ride it.") After 3 vodka tonics and a few shots, I felt brave enough to dance... It was a hoot. I bit it once and then I rocked it as usual. Then it was time for el toro. Now, for some reason this has been something that I have been DYING to try for sometime. I'm not sure if it's because I think I'd be really good at it or if it's because it's a sure fire way to have everyone in the bar look at you... either way, it worked because I'm probably on youtube now. Anyway, I rode that mother like it was my job and the only reason that I had to jump off was because I broke a damn nail. It effin' hurt too. I worked that bull over. Golden Vag. Nuff said.
There were no lines for the bathroom at this bar either which really intrigued me. There was only one bathroom too. I wish we had that kinda of technology in Columbus. It would do wonders for Bar Louie.
Friday, December 28, 2007
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
The Relatives of Relatives
God bless family. You can't pick them and they didn't pick you but you're stuck together for the long haul. Yesterday was Christmas day and my Mom and Dad and I drove down to, that's right, Gallapolooza on Christmas eve night... actually let me go back about one week.
My Mom and I hitched a ride on a jet plane last Thursday and headed out to Las Vegas for my cousin Jen's wedding. The flight was calm and relaxing and we had no problem meeting my uncle in the airport. The 3 of us went to breakfast once we landed because I was, as usual, starving. We went to IHOP and talked about my Grandma (Nan), their crazy mother. In this particular context, I am not loosely using the word "crazy". She's certifiable. Seriously. Everyone is out of the will every other week.
Once we made it back to the house, aka wedding headquarters, it was sheer and total chaos. My Aunt put my mom and I to work, son. Next thing I know, I'm freaking making Spinach and Artichoke dip and delicately arranging pecan tarts for the party that's starting in like 3 hours. Right. It was sweet.
Ok, so then the party started. It was basically a chance for the families of the bride and groom to hang out and get to know each other. Uh, I made a cameo, was harassed by my Aunt Mary's brother Bobby who was trying to fix me up with his son who was in Califorina. Whipping out photos and the whole 9 yards... If I wanted a solider/ cop* I'm pretty sure I could find one here in Columbus. No thanks.
(* Disclamer: Nothing wrong with either profession, I'm going strictly on stereotypes here. My blog, I do what I want.) My mom and I went upstairs to take a nap before the stripper was scheduled to come. Oh yes, the stripper... wait for it. Ok, so I slept for like an hour and a half and it was blissful. Jen came to wake me up so I could get ready because once the stripper was over, we were going out. To a country bar. Where they line dance. I was pumped and or scared pumped for this but what the hell? You only go around once.
The stripper was, uh, interesting. He had a weird little dance numba that he did and it was a little too N*Sync for me but the others seemed to enjoy it... I was ready to hit up Scores or the O.G. or even the White Rhino but no such luck. He offered us his "XXX Fire and Ice Show" for the hot price of $100 bucks. YEAH RIGHT DUDE! You're a freak. He was dismissed after he rendered his services and then the drama started...
The groom's mother, will call her Sandy, got w-w-w-wasted at the party and was slurring her words and herself all over the kitchen. She cornered Jen and told her not to tell Payton (the groom) that Jeanne (brace yourselves, this gets a little retarded... The bestman's wife who just turned 21 and had a baby. Good life choices!) saw the stripper. Her husband, Beaner, didn't want her to so therefore she shouldn't have done it. Whoops! She's in all the pics, living it up with a big dong in her face. Jen was like "Sike. I'm not starting off my marriage by lying to my husband, your son". Then my Aunt jumped in... she said knock it off and let's get the hell outta here and get drunk. So we did.
Part 2 coming soon.
My Mom and I hitched a ride on a jet plane last Thursday and headed out to Las Vegas for my cousin Jen's wedding. The flight was calm and relaxing and we had no problem meeting my uncle in the airport. The 3 of us went to breakfast once we landed because I was, as usual, starving. We went to IHOP and talked about my Grandma (Nan), their crazy mother. In this particular context, I am not loosely using the word "crazy". She's certifiable. Seriously. Everyone is out of the will every other week.
Once we made it back to the house, aka wedding headquarters, it was sheer and total chaos. My Aunt put my mom and I to work, son. Next thing I know, I'm freaking making Spinach and Artichoke dip and delicately arranging pecan tarts for the party that's starting in like 3 hours. Right. It was sweet.
Ok, so then the party started. It was basically a chance for the families of the bride and groom to hang out and get to know each other. Uh, I made a cameo, was harassed by my Aunt Mary's brother Bobby who was trying to fix me up with his son who was in Califorina. Whipping out photos and the whole 9 yards... If I wanted a solider/ cop* I'm pretty sure I could find one here in Columbus. No thanks.
(* Disclamer: Nothing wrong with either profession, I'm going strictly on stereotypes here. My blog, I do what I want.) My mom and I went upstairs to take a nap before the stripper was scheduled to come. Oh yes, the stripper... wait for it. Ok, so I slept for like an hour and a half and it was blissful. Jen came to wake me up so I could get ready because once the stripper was over, we were going out. To a country bar. Where they line dance. I was pumped and or scared pumped for this but what the hell? You only go around once.
The stripper was, uh, interesting. He had a weird little dance numba that he did and it was a little too N*Sync for me but the others seemed to enjoy it... I was ready to hit up Scores or the O.G. or even the White Rhino but no such luck. He offered us his "XXX Fire and Ice Show" for the hot price of $100 bucks. YEAH RIGHT DUDE! You're a freak. He was dismissed after he rendered his services and then the drama started...
The groom's mother, will call her Sandy, got w-w-w-wasted at the party and was slurring her words and herself all over the kitchen. She cornered Jen and told her not to tell Payton (the groom) that Jeanne (brace yourselves, this gets a little retarded... The bestman's wife who just turned 21 and had a baby. Good life choices!) saw the stripper. Her husband, Beaner, didn't want her to so therefore she shouldn't have done it. Whoops! She's in all the pics, living it up with a big dong in her face. Jen was like "Sike. I'm not starting off my marriage by lying to my husband, your son". Then my Aunt jumped in... she said knock it off and let's get the hell outta here and get drunk. So we did.
Part 2 coming soon.
Monday, December 10, 2007
My list of "going out rules"
Ok, so remember when I wrote about maturing and growing as a person and all the crap? Well, I did good for a week and this past weekend I was ok but pulled two stunts that I shouldn't have and at the rate I'm going, well, I gots lots of bad ju-ju out there!
So, that leads me to my "Rules for Going out" meaning that if I want to go out I have to follow these. I also have a "Weekend list" and it is the opposite of this list (i.e. it's the reason I get into trouble on the weekends)... let's see if they negate themselves.
1) No sharking people. You (and by you, I mean me)are not allow to even think about doing this anymore. Bad, bad decision.
2) You can only hate drink if you have a DD and are with close friends. No hate drinking with strangers.
3) No beating up Brynn. This includes: pushing, shoving, pulling hair/clothing etc., Indian rug-burns, throwing objects, screaming mean things that you're just saying because Dick Navis is there... I think that about covers it.
4) No biting.
5) No barfing. (In my defense I've only refunded 3 times at a bar. Once in College, once in Chi-town and a few weeks ago Tailgating.)
6) No smoking. It ruins me.
7) If I'm drinking Patron, I gotta pace myself. It's the only way I can do it these days.
8) No knee-ing people in the junk.
9) No wandering off so people have to/ are able to watch me on surveillance cameras.
I'm sure there's more rules but this is a good start so we'll take it from here. I'll let you know how it goes this weekend. New year, new leaf, new life... A change gon come, nephew.
So, that leads me to my "Rules for Going out" meaning that if I want to go out I have to follow these. I also have a "Weekend list" and it is the opposite of this list (i.e. it's the reason I get into trouble on the weekends)... let's see if they negate themselves.
1) No sharking people. You (and by you, I mean me)are not allow to even think about doing this anymore. Bad, bad decision.
2) You can only hate drink if you have a DD and are with close friends. No hate drinking with strangers.
3) No beating up Brynn. This includes: pushing, shoving, pulling hair/clothing etc., Indian rug-burns, throwing objects, screaming mean things that you're just saying because Dick Navis is there... I think that about covers it.
4) No biting.
5) No barfing. (In my defense I've only refunded 3 times at a bar. Once in College, once in Chi-town and a few weeks ago Tailgating.)
6) No smoking. It ruins me.
7) If I'm drinking Patron, I gotta pace myself. It's the only way I can do it these days.
8) No knee-ing people in the junk.
9) No wandering off so people have to/ are able to watch me on surveillance cameras.
I'm sure there's more rules but this is a good start so we'll take it from here. I'll let you know how it goes this weekend. New year, new leaf, new life... A change gon come, nephew.
Friday, December 7, 2007
Karma
Tell me why two people tried to fight me this week. Someone, please. Seriously.
Scenario 1: I was going to the Spoon concert with two of my girlfriends, Brynn and Tara. We had gone to dinner and arrived at the concert EARLY and started spotting faux celebs which is always fun and we were moving around trying to find the best local which happened to be on the side of the stairs, next to the railing. I jumped up on the railing and that was my perch for the next 3 hours. It really was a prime spot because not only could I sit but we got to see all the people that bit it on the steps. Priceless. So, Spoon was getting ready to come on when this lady and her boyfriend rushed over to the railing and she basically sat on my feet. (Now keep in mind that before the show they were standing in the middle of the stairs and completely blocking everyone's way. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I realize that Brynn and Tara were on the stairs as well but they were on the side and they're skinny so they weren't taking up any room.) Ok, I had NOT, I repeat NOT been drinking. I'm broke, I'm not proud of that but it's the truth so I wasn't drinking. Now, ok, so she sat on my feet and I politely tapped her on the shoulder and said "Excuse me. Um, excuse me." She ignored me. Well, we all know that I HATE being ignore so then it was game on! I nudged her, slightly softer than a shove but no where near a push, and she FREAKED out and said "DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!!" To which I responded "exCUSE ME?!?! What the fuck is YOUR problem? You are sitting on my feet and I just wanted to move them. That's it you bitch." Then she tried to push me off the railing and said "You're not supposed to be up there" and I was like "Whoa. I will fucking spit on you if you don't fucking turn around and stop talking." Then I looked at her boyfriend, who looked terrified, and asked if he would switch spots with her and the random girl next to me (who, btw, kept eye-fucking me all night) goes, "Wait, I don't want her in front of me either!" Then the crazy lady who is called Tiffany (fab. name you stupid whore.) turned around AGAIN and said "Listen, I'm not even that mad..." and I cut her off and said "No. NO. We are NOT friends. I have nothing to say to you and don't give a shit what you have to say to me, so shut up and turn the fuck around." The adrenaline was surging through my body and it was all I could do to not kick her in her nappy head with my booted foot but I had on big hoops on and realized that was the 1st thing she would go for and since I was stone sober, it woulda hurt. Bad. So I decided not to do anything. Meanwhile Brynn had gone to get security. It was pretty funny. So Spoon comes out and the crazy psycho hose beast and her wimpy bf went to the front and we all cheered and clapped and whistled as they walked away. And Spoon was sweet. We all rocked out. The end.
Scenario 2: I was grocery shopping the next night at my local Giant Eagle and was searching, scouring even, for the last thing on my list which happened to be barley. I went to ask the "apple dude" (we'll call him Fuji) if he might know where the barley was and he said "Hmmm. Let me go ask." So I followed him to the front of the store where he asked a co-worker and then this short angry little man (we'll call him Guido) said "Well, it's a pasta so it'd be with the pasta." And I said "Actually it's not a pasta, I believe it's a grain." Well, Guido did NOT like that answer and said "I think I know what barley is. I cook with it everyDAY." I said "Congratulations!" as I walked away with Fuj in search of the elusive grain. NOT pasta. Then Guido shouts back "Come down to the restaurant and I'll cook you some barley!" Really? Really, Guido? Shut up. No one was talking to you in the first place. I wanted to say "Oh, so do you make your own beer with your pasta barley and hops? You stupid dum dum." What kind of Chef doesn't know what barley is? GEEZ! Obviously in this story I was sober as well and although I have never been drunk grocery shopping, it's not out of the realm of possibilities but it didn't happen in this story.
Moral: Karma has my number. He came a-knocking and made his point. I get it. I'm trying to change my evil ways and no longer am I the devil in disguise. At least I don't think I am...
Scenario 1: I was going to the Spoon concert with two of my girlfriends, Brynn and Tara. We had gone to dinner and arrived at the concert EARLY and started spotting faux celebs which is always fun and we were moving around trying to find the best local which happened to be on the side of the stairs, next to the railing. I jumped up on the railing and that was my perch for the next 3 hours. It really was a prime spot because not only could I sit but we got to see all the people that bit it on the steps. Priceless. So, Spoon was getting ready to come on when this lady and her boyfriend rushed over to the railing and she basically sat on my feet. (Now keep in mind that before the show they were standing in the middle of the stairs and completely blocking everyone's way. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I realize that Brynn and Tara were on the stairs as well but they were on the side and they're skinny so they weren't taking up any room.) Ok, I had NOT, I repeat NOT been drinking. I'm broke, I'm not proud of that but it's the truth so I wasn't drinking. Now, ok, so she sat on my feet and I politely tapped her on the shoulder and said "Excuse me. Um, excuse me." She ignored me. Well, we all know that I HATE being ignore so then it was game on! I nudged her, slightly softer than a shove but no where near a push, and she FREAKED out and said "DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!!" To which I responded "exCUSE ME?!?! What the fuck is YOUR problem? You are sitting on my feet and I just wanted to move them. That's it you bitch." Then she tried to push me off the railing and said "You're not supposed to be up there" and I was like "Whoa. I will fucking spit on you if you don't fucking turn around and stop talking." Then I looked at her boyfriend, who looked terrified, and asked if he would switch spots with her and the random girl next to me (who, btw, kept eye-fucking me all night) goes, "Wait, I don't want her in front of me either!" Then the crazy lady who is called Tiffany (fab. name you stupid whore.) turned around AGAIN and said "Listen, I'm not even that mad..." and I cut her off and said "No. NO. We are NOT friends. I have nothing to say to you and don't give a shit what you have to say to me, so shut up and turn the fuck around." The adrenaline was surging through my body and it was all I could do to not kick her in her nappy head with my booted foot but I had on big hoops on and realized that was the 1st thing she would go for and since I was stone sober, it woulda hurt. Bad. So I decided not to do anything. Meanwhile Brynn had gone to get security. It was pretty funny. So Spoon comes out and the crazy psycho hose beast and her wimpy bf went to the front and we all cheered and clapped and whistled as they walked away. And Spoon was sweet. We all rocked out. The end.
Scenario 2: I was grocery shopping the next night at my local Giant Eagle and was searching, scouring even, for the last thing on my list which happened to be barley. I went to ask the "apple dude" (we'll call him Fuji) if he might know where the barley was and he said "Hmmm. Let me go ask." So I followed him to the front of the store where he asked a co-worker and then this short angry little man (we'll call him Guido) said "Well, it's a pasta so it'd be with the pasta." And I said "Actually it's not a pasta, I believe it's a grain." Well, Guido did NOT like that answer and said "I think I know what barley is. I cook with it everyDAY." I said "Congratulations!" as I walked away with Fuj in search of the elusive grain. NOT pasta. Then Guido shouts back "Come down to the restaurant and I'll cook you some barley!" Really? Really, Guido? Shut up. No one was talking to you in the first place. I wanted to say "Oh, so do you make your own beer with your pasta barley and hops? You stupid dum dum." What kind of Chef doesn't know what barley is? GEEZ! Obviously in this story I was sober as well and although I have never been drunk grocery shopping, it's not out of the realm of possibilities but it didn't happen in this story.
Moral: Karma has my number. He came a-knocking and made his point. I get it. I'm trying to change my evil ways and no longer am I the devil in disguise. At least I don't think I am...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)