Limbo Competition at the GAS PUMP? Count it!
Game, set, match.
I had just absolutely fucking destroyed my imaginary friend Sophie at a game of ping-pong. I say imaginary, because she has yet to come out with my big group of friends and they are doubting the existence of my stripper friend. I don't necessarily blame them -- after all, who would really believe that DAVE would go to a strip club at lunch, get a lap dance from a 'ripper, and then become her friend afterwards? Wait...okay...so maybe I WOULD do something like that...
But the irony in the whole situation is that I'm going out for her birthday in the middle of May...but HER boyfriend (who I also happen to think is imaginary, pictures notwithstanding) won't be there. Then again, maybe he doesn't want to meet me and maybe I don't want her to meet the rest of you. Why? Because this is the line and I usually cross it with Soph.
After body checking Soph into the wall (either I under estimated my weight, or I over estimated hers, because the force I exerted sent her flying), I got her to drop me off at Chad's.
I was the first one there, next to Chad and his bro. I survey all the free booze that we must consume before Chad and Robin have to leave. It is enormous...there is NO FUCKING WAY we'll drink all that -- and certainly not the shitty marguerita mix, or the bottle of tequila. But...just as the first man learned that eating whatever comes out of a chicken's ass is actually pretty tasty, I realized that we'll never know what we can accomplish unless we try.
I pour myself a rum and diet and settle in for a long haul.
Soon Cori shows up and I'm slightly buzzed. Shortly Garth shows up and I'm slightly drunk. Then I see Jody Blair and I run onto the deck and scream like Lil' Jon at him -- Yeah. I'm full fledged drunk.
More people show up. How many...is a blur to me. But I do know, that three hours later, we had to send Stav and Walls for MORE BOOZE. Huh? WTF? How in the hell did that happen...??? What happened in the meantime? Well...lets see what I can recall.
1. Watched the new Family Guy episode that is the premiere of the next full season on Fox (this SUNDAY). That's right, we got to watch a pirated copy of the show...
The producers make a not-so-subtle point to the audience to show what their animators can do, you know, when you ACTUALLY have money. Long live Family Guy.
2. Standing on the deck, waiting for Scabs and Mark to get back from Mac's. See this chick waiting at the bottom of the building. Decide it would be fun to moon all of them...so Jody, Moose and I drop our pants.
We are SO FUCKING COOL. Then it turns out that the chick we mooned actually was coming to the house party. We give her some feeble and weak excuse, a lame apology, and I'm pretty sure she fucking hates us.
3. Again with the deck. Cack! Chad plays Call on Me...and you know what that means!
Hey Soph...you're friends...how mean to me are they going to be when I ring the demon bell at your birthday...? Can I at least bring Felix? What about Val? My wife if already committed for that night...is it such a good idea that I show up with the knowledge that these harpies may tear me and my fragile ego to shreds?
Since we are good and liquored up, there is only one place to go. That's right...our most favorite bar in the whole world -- the GAS PUMP.
Now...I know that I speak highly of this bar, usually for no real GOOD reason. And though I have a flair for hyperbole, I can honestly say that last night was the BEST TIME WE'VE EVER HAD AT THE GAS PUMP.
Seems that friday nights are now "beach wear" nights, where you can win trips to...well...non-beach locations. I think last night was a trip...to Whistler...?? Sadly I can't remember. I check my coat and walk through the front door. This relatively hot chick -- no lying here...definately not the usual "ditch pig quality" we are used to -- asks me if I'll let her lay me.
"
Pardon", I says? I weigh my options carefully...I mean, sure...there IS the broom closet close by; perhaps the bathroom stall. Oh, I know, I'll just tell me wife that I'm an FBI agent and that I must take this chick and PUMP HER FOR SOME MORE INFORMATION.
"
No silly"...she laughs coyly and then wraps one of those god-awful plastic lei's around my neck and hands me a free bellini.
Uh...yeah...I wasn't fooled. No, not at all. Whoops, my bad...of course...ha ha ha...will have to laugh about this one in the morning...
I make a bee-line to the pisser. Not to hide my embarrassment, but because I've been drinking for a few hours at this point and really needed to take a leak! As I'm standing over the urinal, I wonder why in the hell bars now-a-days are hiring bathroom attendents. I mean...to say that these people are AGGRESSIVE is an understatement.
No thanks...I can shake it myself!
And what's worse, these people are usually black, thereby perpetuating every single fucking horribly wrong stereotype that exist in our society. We do we subject people to these kinds of torture and racism? It really truly makes me feel sick and disgusting. Besides, we all know that the attendent really should be a brown dude, I mean, if we wanted to get technical...
(Kee-rist, did I ACTUALLY type that...?). At this point, Sanch and Kunal want to knife me in the back.
Normally I just suck it up and don't even maintain eye contact with the attendent. I ignore all the fancy soaps and colognes, the free gum, the hand towels, etc. The reason why I'm able to do this is cause, again, the attendent normally is a really tiny, scrawny dude and you can just blow right passed him.
Not this time. The dude was a monster. As in..."
Baby, I'm gunna butter your bread" variety. I tip the last three bucks to my name and pray that I don't have to go to the bathroom again for the rest of the night.
Normally when I get to a bar, I like to walk around to scope out the joint and to see who is there. (Read: stare at hot chicks in an innocent and casual way). Over by the pool tables, way at the back of the bar, my jaw hits the floor. Why?
1. There are three chicks wearing bikini's playing pool. And they are HOT. Again proving that the bar had to HIRE the girls to walk into that meat market looking like that. I chuckle to myself as I make up a little rhyme in my head: that sarong cannot hide your thong.
2. All the female bartenders and shooter girls are similarly in bikini's -- how the shooter girl was able to fit her enormously fake (but not that I was complaining!) rack into her bikini top, I'll never know. I think upon the degredation of female kind this environment breeds, but then I look at the overflowing tip jar and realize that "they'll probably get over it".
Because I am immune to the wiles of beautiful women, I head out to the dance floor so that I can once again confirm that I have more guy friends compared to gal friends. But luckily for me, I get there just in time to participate in a LIMBO contest. What do I know about limboing? Nothing. How many of my friends join me? Only a completely ridiculously hammered Patty.
We get to the semi-finals before losing out to these unnaturally flexible women.
It was FLAWLESS VCTORY. (But good god damn did my knees hurt after that).
Whatever you say about me and my friends, you simply cannot argue that we have a lust-for-life, as evidenced by the fact that we'll make complete asses of ourself for the sake of a good time.
I take my meagre winnings and purchase more drinks.
I get back to the dance floor to see Kunal in an "apparent dance-off" with this flaming homo from the limbo contest. The guy is acting like a fucking stain, and Kunal is getting a bit pissed off. (See last week's blog entry re: beaking off a cop). Kunal is about to push him when this fat black broad comes into the fray and attempts to kick Kunal. Well...that is what it looks like, but the chick was so heavy that she could barely lift her leg two feet off the ground!
(Oh yeah...now THIS is the usual quality of girl that we see in this bar).
In the end, Kunal never had to do anything as Patty storms in there like a bat outta hell and pushes the stupid mang onto the floor. I think the dude got the point and left the vicinity to go dance on the speakers. By himself. (I don't know that I've seen Patty that drunk in my life...) This leaves Kunal to go back to his first passion -- tearing the various inflatable beach toys from the roof and tossing them around the bar.
We go back to dancing. Moose and I ring the demon bell again (hey...the song was playing...what the hell do you want me to do?) and Chad and Robin go back to making out on the dance floor. FOR CHRIST'S SAKE...get a fucking room.
(See...they pull shit like this...and then wonder why I mention that they were practically screwing each other the time that Patty, Cori and I were forced to sleep in Chad's bachelor apartment with nothing to do but pull a pillow over our heads and hum a tune, praying that we would fall asleep soon enough).
Realizing that my time is almost done, I
grab my wife. And then I ask her if she's
ready to go. (Zing...! Oh wait...that's actually a double ZING!!! I've highlighted the double entendres in bold).
Were there more stories than this? Undoubtedly. For example, I got a call at 3:00 am from Sanchu explaining how they were at Keegans with all of the blow up toys from the bar. And no doubt Patty has some 'splaining to do after seeing how drunk he was -- if he can remember the stories, that is.
But that is for another time.
My mind's telling me no... But my body...my body, is telling me yeah!
The following story that I am about to relay will be useless to you unless you understand what I did leading into last night. Briefly -- got hammered at a bowling alley on the Friday night (only one out of my group to do so, btw). Then I woke up at a god awful hour to help Cori's friends move houses for 3+ hours (read: heavy lifting for this "office guy") and then spent 1 hour in the blazing sun practicing slow pitch.
So I'm picking out mags for my car. You know...shiny wheels that are ridiculously priced? I go to the Kal Tire to price 'em out and have to wait in line behind this young kid -- all of 20, I'd guess -- who adamantly declared that he wanted spinners. For his 1986 Dodge Ares, no doubt. Now...you know me...I don't judge people. (Er...much, at least....er, who the fuck am I kidding?)
The kid was a loser.
From the tips of his ratty Nike airwalks that were so "in style" when I was so "in highschool" all the way up his L.A. Lakers jersey - with ridiculously ornamental chain and pendant -- up to the beak of his hat that hanged sideways off of his head. It was at that moment that I realize -- I can NEVER buy spinners for anything I ever drive for as long as I live. Once I have a little bit of an idea of how much my bank balance will be set back -- ...guess Cori won't be getting that one karat ring she's had her eye on...ZING!! -- I rush home to email my compadres to let them help me pick out which wheels I should purchase.
I breathlessly await their reply's like a 35 year old women waits for the results of her invetro fertilization tests.
It is during this interlude that I learn that we are going to be drinking that night. At Patty's. Stat. Now...Cori's gone to Hot Randi's (TM) stagette and I have the house to myself. I have to remain sober as I'm her DD. Evil Banchu is coming up next week and wants to drink everyday, and I have that one-week course coming up that requires me to have all my homework done ahead of time. I'm tired as all hell and both my arms and my back are real sore. I should just stay home.
I'll be there in 5 minutes...
Along the way I pick up Chad and Robin from the condo. It is a mess...you know, like a hurricane blew threw it due to all the packing that's going on. One of Chad's sex toys -- a plastic (and disturbingly realistic) cock shaped water gun -- makes it into the car along with us. After we blow that popsicle stand, we run out to Val's to pick her up. By this time, it's fairly dark outside so naturally I have my neon on. I roll up to the door...invite myself in...and shoot the shit with Val's bro who was suitably impressed with the neon purple glow emanating from the underbelly of my car. I bite my lip so as to not yell out "BAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMMMM" like they do in the pop tarts commercial.
(BTW...I can't find those damn commericals on the 'net ANYWHERE).
I make the second biggest mistake of my life and try to get to Patty's by staying on Whyte Ave. We move slower than the old people with walkers in the Supermarket. But at least I'm getting a lot of stares at the car...and then I realize it's only because Chad has the cock water gun pointing out through the sunroof. I thank whatever god it is that watches over me that Val had AT LEAST met Chad just two days before... I mean, I love Chad and all...but to see him playing with a plastic cock and giggling wildly like a little school girl is a little much, even for me.
Robin and Val threaten to stand up through the sunroof and flash passer bys.
Uh...ladies..."threatening" to show boobs really isn't all that threatening to me...
Finally we DO get to mi amigo's place and the horde start drinking with reckless abandon. We are watching the smash BBC hit "the Office", look at a little Play Boar (for those that don't know...think Play Boy...with Pigs...and no, I'm NOT lying)...you know, the usual. In no time at all Crystal and Cory Bergeron show up. Patty discovers that Willie Nelson is going to be playing Saskatoon. Are the two incidents related by coincidence? I think not... After Patty drops $136 boners on a pair of tickets -- he doesn't have anyone to go with him yet -- he decides to play a few choice Willie Nelson songs on the stereo. Within seconds, Crystal begins to complain and beak about the song selection. I point this out ONLY 'cause it will be relevant later on.
Somehow we get on the topic of the various street vendors on Whyte Ave. Cory listens in awe to the tales of "Push-Up Man", "Stompey", and others. Cory then announces how much he'd like to see said persons. I point this out ONLY 'cause it will be relevant later on. (Hello...hello...hello. Is there an echo in here...here...here...???)
Eventually, we decide that although the Ave. is packed, we should go anyways. We all pile into two vehicles and roll out. First stop is Hudson's Canadian Taphouse and we are NOT going to get in.
While we are trying to figure out what to do next...guess who should arrive but PUSH UP MAN!!!! We pay him...uh...$5 to do 30 one-armed pushups and the dude does them on the spot! As he is counting them off, this chick in a really short jean skirt bends over, hikes the skirt even higher, and emulates the up and down motion of a particularly kinky sex position in the same rhythm as Push Up Man is doing his feat of strength. Naturally, it was awesome (uh...the girl in the skirt, that is).
We have little to no appetite to wait in the line-up at Hudson's, so we walk down the Ave.
1. We pass this dude strumming a guitar wearing a Darth Vader Mask. I have an urge to whimper, "
Father...???"
2. We pass by this crazy person asking us for our pocket change so that he can buy a pair of fake breasts, since that was the only way anyone was going to respect him. Patty yelled back that his dog didn't need 'em....
3. We wait in line to get into the Black Dog where Patty throws a hellacious "hip check" on this girl celebrating her birthday. But it was a bit too hard and she would up getting a cigarette burn mark on her pants. Patty felt real bad...so, to make up for it, she made him kiss the burn. Patty bends down and this chick takes his head and jams it into her legs...rubs his face around a bit... DAMN this chick knew what she wanted for her birthday! I think that Patty got rug burn on his top lip!
But Patty...really...first you yell at a homeless person and then you hip check a girl on her birthday?!?! Did I ever mention what an ass that Patty is?
Black Dog blew ass so we get on truckin'. Somehow, someone convinced the group to head to the One * VAL!!! *. Along they way, who should we run into at the Army and Navy? STOMPEY!!!! Sweet sassy molassey -- all of Cory Bergeron's dreams are coming true! Stompey stomps us a tune as he plays his guitar but eventually we get to the One.
The One is surprisingly packed. Shots and more rounds of booze are purchased. Houle lights up a fat cigar...oh my...Party Dave "a.k.a. DUFFMAN" really wants to come out... To make matters worse, Val and I are a drinking team ... and as we all know, there is no I in TEAM, but there IS in DRINKING!
So, not unlike a 16-year old teenager who's got blue balls, I have to relieve myself of the immediate situation facing me. I go for long walks around the club, amazed at how invisible a sober person can be in a night club full of drunken asses. Even my own friends barely notice I'm gone -- my shrink calls it "abandonment" -- but I do get to see some interesting sights and scenes, namely all the girls at the One who are now forced to wear corsets.
Sob...Val...why did you quit?
I hook back up with the group which had split into two groups. On the one hand, you had Patty, Val, and Houle literally joined at the hip at the bar drinking shots hand over fist. On the other hand, you have Chadwick et al drinking booze hand over fist, eying up the dance floor. At that exact moment, there is a chick dancing on the speakers. And Chad gets an idea.
You see...there are two types of girls that should dance that those that should NOT. Lets just say that Shamu the Whale was in the latter category. Chad's idea is to go dance with her. He wants me to come. As in, dance with her on the speaker. Do I hear my new theme song? My mind is telling me no...but my body, my body is telling me yeah!
Thank Jeebus I was stone cold sober or else I would have made the BIGGEST mistake of my life.
But we did want to dance...so there we were, 5 dudes and Robin dancing. Sigh...nothing like the good ol' times! Finally the three amigo's (Jon, Patty, Val) decide to join us, at which point Val informs me that she requested my song. That's right..."
Call on Me" by Eric Prydz.
I tell her that she is crazy if she thinks that I'm going to ring the demon bell without being drunk. But when the song starts, well, lets just say that my mind was telling me no...but my body, my body was telling me YEAH! Thankfully, I was able to resist.
Shortly thereafter a gang fight (!) breaks out not more than 2 feet away from my body. Patty yells out to me to get the fuck outta there -- did I ever mention what a great guy that Patty is? -- and we explode out of the club into the cool night air quicker than the first orgasm of the day on a gang-bang porno set.
As we walk home, Kunal and Crystal get a ticket for starting to cross a crosswalk when the flashing hand is going. Even though we ALL know that they NEVER lip off to ANYONE ( * end heavy sarcasm * ), they both get a ticket. I wonder if beaking to the cops had anything to do with it? Kunal...you should have just offered to suck his cock. I've heard that it works like a charm each and every time.
Timing things PERFECTLY, my tipsy wife calls and we shove 5 bodies into my car. How...I'll never know. Hot Randi (TM) sticks her head into my car. I know that she knows who I am...hell, even says my name...but I'm not sure a lot of the conversation was registering. God, I've been there on my own stag...!!!
Wow...I've gotta wrap this up here. If only my stamina in bed was a great as my stamina for sitting at a comp. typing out these blog entries for an hour straight?
We go back to Patty's 'cause Cori and Val still wanna par-tay. People seem to crash (secretly, I'm cheering like a Roman watching a lion maul a slave in the Coliseum)...and I start the process of driving people home 'cause I'm tired! Well...the night air must have given the little group their tenth wind...because next thing I know we are partying at my house. The logic being that this way, I can drink too.
Only problem is that I've been up for nearly 24 hours and would just be starting to drink...whereas I'm convinced that Cori/Val/Houle will pass out any second. Luckily, I do manage to convince them that I should drive them home and that its NOT an imposistion. Geez...you tell people that you'll be their DD for a night and they don't believe you!
We get back and Cori announces that she isn't tired -- DING DONG, ga ga ga goo, hubba hubba -- instead of what I'm thinking, however, she asks for a massage (damn....). Within 20 minutes of me starting, she's passed out sleeping. Yes...my hands ARE that good.
You'll have to ask me for a demonstration some time. Unless you're a guy...'cause that would be gay. But ladies...give me a call...
Sometimes you want to go...where everybody knows your name
Making your way in the world today,
Takes everything you've got.
Taking a break from all your worries,
Sure would help a lot.
Wouldn't you like to get away....
Some times you want to go
Where everybody knows your name.
And they're always glad you came.
You want to be where you can see
Our troubles are all the same
You want to be where everybody knows your name.
I love nostalgia. It reminds you of a better time, a happier and simpler time. Where you could just hang out with friends and not have to worry about whether or not Chad would have to pimp out Robin for rent money, or if Houle would have to sell crack to some school kids to buy groceries for him and Mish. Yes, last night was just such a night at the Lister Hall Alumni party.
And if you missed it, let me recap all of the sorrid details!
* * *
Me, Cori, Val, Vanessa were all drinking chocolate coffee tequila -- thank you Mexico for developing such a delicious liquid panty remover that a guy can feel proud to drink as well. And by drinking, I mean (of course) doing shots hand over fist.
It's 7:35...
Or perhaps I should clarify. You see, I think it was just me that was doing shots, partly due to my alcohol problem but mostly because of the fact that ALL of the lovely ladies I was with were looking hot enough to make a preacher sweat!
The show started at 8:00 and I had promised to be there shortly thereafter. So we jump in a cab and head to Fort Edmonton park. The cab ride works out to be $16.40 and I just give our Croation Cabbie Friend a $20. He weirded me out a bit 'cause I thought he was going to cry on my shoulder with gratitude! I think it was because he could finally afford a Tim Horton's sandwich...cause the dude seriously could have used it. Not saying that he was skinny...but lets just say that I've seen fatter Ethiopians!
(Hey Moose...you catch the blantant Africa joke there?)
We walk to the hanger which was, quite easily, 15 minutes away. As we walk, Corinna poses as tour guide to Val and Vanessa who have never been to Fort Edmonton Park. Wow...a party AND a visit to a historical Edmonton site! Along the way Cori points out the old buildings, the old tractors, etc. My contribution to the history of Edmonton is to point out a cow. And a horse.
We finally get to the Hanger and have to sign waiver form after waiver form. We are instructed to actually read each and every line -- limited liability, you cannot sue, blah blah blah. Ha ha ha...those cock suckers didn't mention ANYTHING about suing for injuries sustained whilst riding the farm animals in a drunken stupor. Dave...you are a crazy genius!
Turns out that we're are basically the first one's there. No matter, I think to myself, I'll just have a tasty delicious Sleeman's and wait for my buddies. Afterall, they assured me that they'd be there around 8:00 just as I was. (Now...don't get me wrong...hanging out with the Lay-Days -- which included Jocelyn "Hotness" Downes at that point -- is fine, but it's not like you can crack rude jokes about some broad in the distance without some male accompaniment).
After three beers and 40 minutes later, mes amis finally showed up. As you know, nothing says "lets get drunk" like a triple Vodka and drinking games. But with no cards and no dice, we were resigned to playing I've Never Ever. I go first. "
I've never ever NOT played this game". (Ouch...just broke the only rule of the game -- the use of the double negative). But, in my defence, I wanted to get the newbies drunk quickly.
The rounds go by quickly. Some noticable highlights are I've Never Ever:
- Slept with a guy
I seem to remember Moose and Sanchu cuddling on Colin's hide-a-bed...but Moose didn't drink.
_ - Made out with Q McQuarie
fuck...drinks for me...
_ - Had Clarkey as a room mate
The best about this one is that Val asked it...after I whispered it in her ear. Mish...don't you miss that little guy, even a little?
_ - FUCKED A CHICK ON JON HOULE'S COUCH
Only Moose drank.
Even better is how Houle had NO IDEA THIS HAD HAPPENED and was finding out for the first time right then and there!
Really, how do you top that one?
From there, literally, all drinking hell broke loose. Turkey went to play pool with Val. And won 4 straight games. I think it was because Val carried the team..... In retrospect, Val agreed to be on his team if only to learn more of the mysterious "Mickey Chug" phenonimon. I will piss on your dead grandpa's grave if you don't believe me that I have seen my good friend Greg drink a whole mickey of booze in under 5 seconds. And I will punch you in the face if you doubt the fact that Greg has also drank more than 100 oz. in one night.... (Molest Me's party...now that was a good time!).
Cori went around mingling with the other people there that we new from yesteryear...such as all of the HOT RLA's we used to work with. Honestly, there were so many people, so many faces...you forget all of the friends you had in Lister until you come back to see them all again at (what was) essentially a reunion. I used the obligatory "hug and squeeze" move on many of my old gal friends, 'cause that move is SO money....
Moose and I just got smashed, pretty much by ourselves but also with Bissel, Garth, Houle, Army...the list went on and on. At one point, Moose showed me some girls he used to hit on in the Ship and the ones that he asked out. And that's when we had an epiphany. The feeling of "I think I know you but can't remember your name" came from the fact during our reign in Lister, we'd getting fucking hammered on a Thursday Ship Night and hit on all these lovely lasses without ever learning their names.
(I'll let you guess how successful we were back-in-the-day...)
All the hotties were there. There was Dana from 2K. Cat from 4K. Orally...I mean Anally...I mean Onolee from MH. There was Jenn from 6M, Ann-Marie from 5M, Jill from 2K....too many to mention! But sadly, no Marni -- eh Houle?
The night progressed rapidly through 3 bands that no one danced to and before we knew it, the bands had packed up and a CD was inserted to the sound system. Consequently the dance floor became instantly packed.
I feel it was because they all wanted to see me cut a rug, but I could be wrong.
The only other item to note is that Val and Vanessa, of course, lived in Nova Scotia when we lived in Lister Hall...so they had to pretend that they belonged. I kept teasing them all night to go up to some chick and say, "Hey...how's it going...I haven't seen you since the time you danced naked on the bar". A close second was to go up to a guy, slap him in the face, and say "You ass...it's been five years and your child needs to know his daddy".
I didn't think they'd do it. But at the end of the night, Val did say something to this guy! He was completely dumbfounded. It was a FLAWLESS, VICTORY.
The evening at Fort Edmonton closes with the girls getting into a cab with a box full of leftover booze -- Count It!! -- while Moose and I ring the Demon Bell to "Call on me" as the last few people filter out... Curses...that fucking song just had to be played, didn't it. I am tempted to shout out that Nothing Say Money Like Showing the Cunny...but didn't think we needed the unncessary attention.
According to Jody, Moose hates all women and that's final. But Jody...I'm telling you right now...that I'm pretty sure that was not the case last night!
After Houle finishes off his official organizer duties, we grab a cab back to my place for the after party. On the way home, Cori calls to inform me that the girls are having naked panty tickle fight. I run up the stairs like a man possessed and throw open the door. Regretably, the girls must have JUST changed back into their clothes.
Damn...came THAT CLOSE to reaching Nirvana!
The rest of the evening feature watching Dodge Ball the Movie -- which I now own on DVD. Turkey drinking Vodka straight from the bottle. It had Jon Houle -- or Joule (Jewel) as I shall now call him forever -- cursing at the lady for taking longer than the second coming of Christ to make our pizza.
And because this is MY blog entry and 'cause I want to look like a total stud hero, I saved Vanessa from trying to go home with a skeezy cabbie by herself since she was WAY TOO HAMMERED to even think straight. She passed out, face first, on my lap. While this sounds cool, you horn-dogs will be disappointed because I had a foot thick pillow on top of said nether region.
No...if you want gratuitous sex and nudity, you'd have to hang out with my stripper friend Sophie.
Things wound down VERY quickly from there. I offered Val and Vanessa a place to sleep -- really, Vanessa was too drunk to go anywhere -- and tempted them with the prospect of french toast in the morning. But it was all for not as they hopped in a cab and went home.
Cori and I pass out. It's 5:45 and the first hint of daylight is peaking up in the horizon.
As per usual, any of you stains that didn't come...(hmm...cum stains?...), you totally missed out. Which now forces me to berate Sophie...seriously, when in the hell are you going to come out with us? You too could have your own chapter in these entries -- especially when you flash everyone the goodies!
Describe the perfect XXXX in 50 words or less
I hate those kinds of contests; you know, the ones that make you spill your guts on some important subject but having to limit it to a ridiculously small number of words?
I mean, can you imagine trying to describe why world peace is important to you in under 100 words? Think about Sanchu trying to describe how great world peace would be if it meant that the horrific violence between India and Pakistan would cease, and how his family would be safe and wouldn't have to worry about the threat of a nuclear pakie attack from the sky (all apologizes to Sophie, Kunal, and Sanchu for the blantant use of a blantantly racist term).
I know what the organizers of these contests are trying to do....they want to limit the amount of reading they have to do in order to declare a winner.
Speaking of organizers, I'm an organizer. Along with my imaginary-friend-who-you-have-never-met, Sophie, we are the Organizers of a ping-pong tournament at work. Although I haven't told Sophie yet, I'm making a new rule whereby each female participant must compete naked from the waist up, and will earn additional bonus points if they go naked from the waist down as well.
Because planning a naked ping pong tournament is infinitely more fun than trying to write a long winded blog entry, I will instead provide you with the abridged version of last night's shenanigans. Keeping in the spirit of the aforementioned contest, I will attempt to relay the nights events, as I saw them, in 50 points or less.
1. Prior to getting picked up, listen to theme music such as Colour Me Badd's "I wanna sex you up" and Jewel's "Who will save your soul".
2. Get picked up at 11:00 by Houle, Mish, and Moose. Explain repeatedly to Mish why we need to steal a pet from the pet store in order to satisfy the requirements of "The List of Things We Must Do on Moose's Birthday".
3. Go to the liquor store. Contemplate whether or not three guys can finish 48 beers by ourselves or not.
4. Listen to Moose rationalize why 48 beers, between 3 guys, over one full day, really is less than one beer an hour.
5. Try to answer the question "Do you know this man?" in the liquor store. Realize later that it was not an in-store contest; those pictures were individuals who stole from the store.
6. Go to Quizno's and get a tasty, delicious, Black Angus Steak and Cheese on fresh oven baked Rosemary parmesan bread covered with bubbling cheeses and special sauce.
7. Start drinking -- by 11:30 -- at Houle's. Play PS2 and kick Houle's ass at NHL 2004 (but, like it was hard)
8. Receive a phone call from Val. Ask if she is going to wear her corset to work that night at her final night at the Club.
9. Explain to Val that I would go visit her regardless, because she is my friend.
10. Further explain to Val that it was my dick head friends -- Moose and Houle -- who asked me to ask the initial question in the first place. God I hate those guys.
11. Surf the net to see if anyone responded to our www.plentyoffish.com profile. Scratch my head and wonder why this chick needs to put a profile on an online dating service: http://www.plentyoffish.com/member380876.htm (Trust me, it's worth the click...and she lives in Edmonton)
12. Discuss the death of the Pope. Muse to myself if a new email address The_Pope_Kicks_Ass_for_the_Lord@hotmail.com should be created or not.
13. Defend my making of the Terry Schiavo email address. Apologize to Moose for disappointing him and his views on humanity.
14. Head down to the back alley to get picked up by Misheala. Have beers in hand...pound them...go to throw empty cans in trash can. At this point, "Oscar the Grouch" -- a homeless dude -- pops his head up through the dumpster. Takes our cans.
15. Moose has a 5 minute conversation with Oscar.
16. Me bouncing off the front driver side bumper of Jon's SUV after Mish tries to run me over.
17. Somehow being forced to ride in the god damned trunk with Moose.
18. Sad to admit that it is not the first time him and I have been in that situation.
19. Moon cars from the back of the S.U.V. Pray that Houle has a "Honk if you are horny" bumpersticker, to explain the reactions of the drivers of the other vehicles.
20. Get to the strip club and order a drink. Gag at the $5.25 price. Miss the $5.25 prices when they start charging $5.75 for a drink.
21. Cheer and scream wildly at strippers. Ring the Demon Bell when "Call on Me" is played.
22. Go coo-coo for coco-puffs when a stripper does an entire set to Motley Crue songs. Win Moose poster after poster after poster.
23. Get a cab when we could have gotten a ride for free. Discuss with cabbie what it's like to be a cabbie. Contemplate about sleeping with an escort in the back of the cab after the cabbie swears it nearly happened to him two weeks ago. Urge the cabbie to "go for it" as he discusses his career goal of driving a cement truck.
24. Buy aviator sunglasses -- an item from ""The List of Things We Must Do on Moose's Birthday". (Begin looking for a fuzzy pink item for Jill; a small Avril Lavigne T-shirt for me; a new pen for Jody; a male thong for Houle).
25. Repress the urge to punch Moose upon finding out he threw "The List of Things We Must Do on Moose's Birthday" in the garbage, along with the stripper posters that we spent dozens of dollars winning.
26. Go to a petting zoo. Marvel at the minature horse, the drugged goats, and the angry turkey. Wonder which one we should steal...
27. Play laser tag. Unmercilessly hunt down the little children and women in the same group as us. But at least I got first place!
28. Go to Julio's Barrio. Order a round of bull-dogs (a double sized lime margerita with a corona tipped upside down). Then order another round of said drinks.
29. Wear my aviators the whole entire time in the restaurant. (Keep in mind that to wear aviators, I need to remove my regular glasses so I can't see worth a shit, not to mention it's dark in the restaurant).
30. Meet up with Jody and Jill. Jody also wears aviators in the restaurant. Why? Because he can.
31. Explain to the waitress that I drive jets for a living. Emphasis on "drive" as opposed to "fly". Pretend to ignore the fact that she rolls her eyes at all of us.
32. Try to convince my friends that (a) Sophie is real and (b) is actually a nice girl and (c) isn't nearly as mean as she sounds. Regretably, Val did little to back me up in this regard.
33. Pay $100 for supper. Do you know how many day's wages that represents to a Mexican?
34. Get Moose a date for next weekend. But I don't think he remembers this little fact at all, do you Moose?
35. Go back to Houle's and win the Stanley Cup.
36. Drool over all of the incredibly smokin' hot Meadow Lake girls. Megs...I believe the line was "Are you smokin'....as in, smokin' hot?" I've got more class than I know what to do with...
37. Moose and I place a pressed ham on Houle's patio window.
38. Become disturbed over the fact that Moose and I spend a lot of time half naked together.
39. Yell at cars off of Houle's balcony.
40. Watch this pack of guys stare my wife up and down as she crosses the intersection wearing a skirt.
41. Explain to Cori that I'm not lying; that she has great legs; that those guys were, in fact, totally checking her out in a leacherous manner.
42. Back peddle when pressed as to why I didn't "defend my wife's honour" w.r.t. those horny dudes.
43. Sneak into the Stone House. Don't pay cover; don't show my ID, nothing. Feel like I'm in a Fat Joe Music Video for Lean Back -- you know, the line that goes "And we walk around those metal detectors".
44. Shake my rump on the dance floor where, at some point, a chick with long curly blonde hair decides to grab me around the waist from behind. For the love of Christ, what is with that bar...I swear to god I do NOTHING to attract this kind of female attention. Thank Cori for not being jealous.
45. Promptly begin to grind with Megan and Mish. Sigh...I'll never learn.
46. Make a "Jill Sandwich" with me and Jody as the pieces of bread.
47. Head to the stage on the dance floor to perform our version of the Full Monty...without the "getting naked and showing our kibble and bits" part. Amazed at how Jody can "nip-up" at will.
48. See Kenton, Kayla, and Marie. For some reason, at that moment, I have a strange desire for Chinese food...bizarre. Kenton...are you sure you don't have a little sop, sop, soy in you at all?
49. Say good bye to everyone and leave the bar. What time is it? I have no idea. But I do know that it's been 12 hours of drinking....again. (Sob...our A.A. members are going to be SO disappointed with us).
50. Take a bus home and pass out.
I'm sure there was more to the day than I can recall...especially the parts that occur after I get back to Houle's. But at that point, needless to say, we were blitzed more than an opposing quarterback facing a stauch defence.
Peace Out, A-town down.
