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Ringing the DEMON BELL

Girl meets guy
Girl is not interested in guy
Girl and guy seem to clash and could never get along
Girl can't stop thinking about guy
Girl and guy admit that they are actually crazy for each other
They live happily ever after.

Geez. What absolutely boring shit. I mean, woman KNOW that this pattern will be repeated time after time after time. So what do they see in these things anyway?? And that's when it hit me. There is no difference between her voracious appetite to consume fluffy literature that follows a predictable pattern than there is to these little narratives that I provide you with on a routine basis.

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If you ever get the chance when you are in New York, one of the things that you really must do is attend a Broadway Musical. Regrettably, however, getting to New York in and of itself is damn expensive, and good luck getting tickets to any of the more popular shows. Fortunately for us, the production groups will take their shows on the road to centers like Edmonton and Calgary.

When Broadway shows come to town, they quite often are held in the Jubilee Auditorium. In the past, the Jube has hosted some memorable shows, most notably Miss Saigon, The Phantom of the Opera, and Luke Cresswell's & Steve McNicholas' original production: Stomp. None of these shows are currently playing, but if you come over to my apartment right now, you'll find that a private viewing of Stomp is playing in the back of my skull.....

In case you couldn't tell, God I'm hung over.

And it's not my fault.

I was planning on taking it easy. Maybe go for a run, watch a movie, you know the usual. But instead I get this email announcing some promotions and position shifts within our department. It seems that everyone (except me) is getting promoted these days with more pay, etcetera. But I'm not bitter.

The thing about promotions is that you go out and celebrate that promotion. So the plan was changed to going to Cliff Clayvins for a few barley bevridges. EVERYONE was going. Well...everyone, that is, but me.

You see, I had to stay behind and work on draft legislation before I could leave work on Friday. So there I am, just me and my boss in the office working away into the night while all the rest of my work friends are at the bar. I had a serious case of "feeling sorry for myself" and it was only made worse when I'd get the phone calls in my cubicle of "you coming out yet" or "ha ha Dave...you're still at work...so phone up Holly and see if she wants to come out too".

Roman...what am I? Your work bitch? Wait. Don't answer that.

Finally I was able to pack up and leave and get to Cliffs. As I entered the room, I was greeted as I always am, with Cheers and Roars of Approval...for I am the people's champion. I picked a spot next to Sophie. I think I saw her visibly cringe in fear. Or was it wince in embarrassment...?? Now I've said it before but I'll say it again: Soph and I are tight. She knows stuff about me that most of my guy friends don't.

For example, she knows about the time when I was 5 years old in Drayton Valley. I was a little gaffer at the time but starting to gain some independence. Well, we were working in the yard and I had to take a piss but I sure as shit wasn't going to take a leak in front of my parents. So I moseyed to the front of our property, whipped 'er out, and let nature's course start. Now, as you know, once it starts it don't really stop. So imagine the sheer embarassment I had when the GOD DAMNED SCHOOL BUS -- full of children -- pulled up.

Yeah...so as I said, she knows a lot about me.

And I know a lot about her too. Maybe too much. In the WHOLE TIME I've ever known Sophie, I don't think I've ever made her blush. I'm not going to divulge my secrets here. After all, does Chloe Sullivan blab to the whole world that she knows about Clark Kent's strange but mysterious powers? Lets just say that I realized that FINALLY I had said something to her that made her feel awkward/embarassed when she said "I'm not telling you any more information" in an abrupt attempt to change the topic as quickly as possible.

Don't worry Soph, you're secret is safe with me.

Kinda like the way AIDS kills those infected with HIV, slowly but surely time was causing people to leave Cliff Clayvins. Soon there was just a handful of us hearty soldiers left. Or, more appropriately, the alcoholics. But eventually even we had to leave...not because we wanted to, but because we were going on to bigger and better things.

My dear old buddy old pal Jon Houle wanted us to come to Cook County, and Corinna need to change...so me, Cori, Vanessa, and Val went back to our apartment first before heading to the bar. **I'm going to skip the part where we had a wild orgy and fucked like bunnies. Mainly I'm skipping it because it didn't happen... But, whatever**

When we finally roll up to Cook County, Jon and Moose have already fisted each other. That is to say that they have more beer in their hands than they can realistically carry. (Geez...get your minds out of the gutter). We choose a prime spot right in front of the mechanical bull and watch all the wanna be hero's try to ride the damn thing.

Of note is that none of us tried to ride it... But how I wanted to! I've always be fascinated with the damn things since the time I was 3 years old and got my picture taken at the rodeo on a mechanical Black Angus bull.

When I wasn't watching the bull, I shook hands with most girls that walked by, introducing myself as "Hi, I'm Jon Maclean". This stopped once my wife caught on.

No matter... It turns out, however, that Houle was taking a diligent count of all the T-bars of the ladies that rode that bitch. And, since it would seem (amazingly enough) that some of you don't know what a T-bar is, let me demonstrate.

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(Okay ladies...I know, I know... Where's the eye candy for you, right?) Fine. You're wish is my command:

But one does not go to Cook County just for mechanical bulls and thongs. No...we go to two-step. So I grab my wife and we cut a rug and then Val and Vanessa took that rug right out from under my feet. That's right. No matter how hard I tried, they did NOT WANT TO DANCE WITH ME. I cried for a little bit, but I think I"m going to be okay now. We quickly left the bar at that point because honestly, what was the point of living at that moment? (Okay...I lied...I'm NOT over the rejection).

As we leave the bar, we see Houle's mortal enemy. Global Sport's KEVIN KARIUS.

The next stop on our impromptu pub crawl was Hudson's Canadian Taphouse. This place was great. Not only was there no cover charge, and no coat check, but a good buddy of ours - Mike Gordon - was working security. Now, anytime you know someone working security you know it's going to me trouble, specially when Moose and I get onto the dance floor. As you all are painfully aware of by now, Steve and Doug Butabi (i.e. the characters in Night at the Roxbury) are better dancers that we are. And that's just sad but, in our defence, we just don't have the the dance moves in our repetoire that those guys do.

Well, except one. The DEMON BELL. (Or, as Cori just calls it, the Devil's Dangle).

That's right. Last night at Hudson's, Eric Prydz "Call on Me" was playing and Moose and I were ringing the demon bell with reckless abandon. How can I describe the this, ultimate dance move? Well, remember that tribute video that I sent around, where the dudes do that hip thrust move such that cock and balls slam back and forth, hence, Demon Bell.

We are SO COOL.

Fortunately either no one saw our dancing, or no one cared, because Moose and I actually attracted some female attention to dance with us. And so what if these girls were the ones we came with to the bar in the first place? Yes between the dancing and calling Patty and Sanchu to tell them how much we hated them, you could say that life was perfect.

Well, maybe not too perfect. Some dude in a yellow shirt that tried to get into our little dance group by "pretending" to be dancing by himself and then saddle up next to Cori and Val. When we do this move -- ala the Idaho girls last week -- it's cool. When other guys do it, it's retarded. Hmmmm...could it be that WE'RE retarded to??? Apparently this guy started to talk trash to Cori and Val about the dance stylings of Moose and I ... but little did he know that they were with us. He was dropped like a dirty shirt.

Other things of note at Hudson's were women dancing in belly shirts that shouldn't have been wearing belly shirts, if you know what I mean.

Yes...imagine the gall I have. I just describe the demon bell and then have the audacity to say who should be wearing what items. I am shallower than a puddle of water in a parking lot. *Shame*

We decide to leave Hudsons...and not a moment to soon because who, does it turn out, was stalking us? Global Sport's KEVIN KARIUS!!!!! Houle, when are you going to slay your mortal enemy once and for all??

We leave Hudsons to go to the One, so that Val and Vanessa can pick up their paycheques. Plus, they know people "on the inside" so that we'd get good service. Turns out that it wouldn't have been an issue, even if we didn't go with them, 'cause the club was about as empty as the vegetarian booth at the National BBQ convention. Seriously...it was weird. Thousands of square feet of night club all to ourselves which was pretty cool but where was everyone?

At some point in the night, I started giving massages. Funny story about massages. During my second year at University, I would give massages up and down the girls wing, and actually would convince girls that it would be a hell of a lot easier for me if they just took their shirts off. With that background info in mind, and hoping that Val is a good sport here, she "threatened" that if I didn't stop, SHE was going to take off HER shirt.

Uh. Val. Threats like that don't exactly get guys to stop whatever they're doing....

I wish I had more stories, but honestly by this time I'm so fucking drunk and it's 3:00am that I don't know if I have that much more to say. Cori and I call a cab while the rest of the yahoo's go back to SCAB'S place with off-sales. Apparently they continued drinking till 5:30 in the morning...

Just where the hell do these kids get the energy these days....

posted by Team Shawn Michaels @ 11:03 a.m.