DEN OF THE URBAN COWBOY
So I discovered that dance clubs are not my thing. Little sis being the kick ass sibling she is, hauled my ass out to cowboys last weekend. She meant well, but lets face it folks; I just dont do the dance scene. First problem I encountered was a metal detector. It doesnt bother me that the place requires one, it's just a pain in the ass making a trip back to the car to dump all my blades. Once through the door it became clear that this was a hang out for the trendy urban cowboy (big hat, no cows). To me these people are like metal slivers, not actually painful, just irritating. The worst of them think the hat and boots make them look tough, It seems rather obvious however that none of them have ever worked over 8 hours in a day. The inhabitants coupled with the terrible music gave the place the same effect as a hot poker to the brain. But then it suddenly dawned on me "they serve liquor here!". If there is one thing an Irishman knows how to do, its power drink. Ladies and gentlemen see the amazing marksman go from zero to drunk in $35/20min, a new personal best. Once I was sufficiently inebriated to tolerate my surroundings, I realized there were NO FICKING BAR STOOLS! I ask you, how is a piss tank supposed to stay vertical if he has to use his legs, thats just cruel. At some point we took off, I couldnt really tell you when, as my concept of time became rather blurred. And on the ride home I vowed never again to enter the den of the urban cowboy.
-Marksman out
So I discovered that dance clubs are not my thing. Little sis being the kick ass sibling she is, hauled my ass out to cowboys last weekend. She meant well, but lets face it folks; I just dont do the dance scene. First problem I encountered was a metal detector. It doesnt bother me that the place requires one, it's just a pain in the ass making a trip back to the car to dump all my blades. Once through the door it became clear that this was a hang out for the trendy urban cowboy (big hat, no cows). To me these people are like metal slivers, not actually painful, just irritating. The worst of them think the hat and boots make them look tough, It seems rather obvious however that none of them have ever worked over 8 hours in a day. The inhabitants coupled with the terrible music gave the place the same effect as a hot poker to the brain. But then it suddenly dawned on me "they serve liquor here!". If there is one thing an Irishman knows how to do, its power drink. Ladies and gentlemen see the amazing marksman go from zero to drunk in $35/20min, a new personal best. Once I was sufficiently inebriated to tolerate my surroundings, I realized there were NO FICKING BAR STOOLS! I ask you, how is a piss tank supposed to stay vertical if he has to use his legs, thats just cruel. At some point we took off, I couldnt really tell you when, as my concept of time became rather blurred. And on the ride home I vowed never again to enter the den of the urban cowboy.
-Marksman out
yellowdays:
and im sure the joints i kept feeding you all night didnt help the blur at all either. im sorry to hear you couldnt get the time off to join your sis in bc, boourns!!!
rosita:
It is total shit I dont blame you lol. ...Im thinkin bout my doorbell when you gonna ring it when you gonna ring it..... ahahaha torturing the inebriated is sooo fun.