After a sound, dreamless night's sleep, I rolled out of bed at what for me is the ungodly hour of eight in the morning. Another leisurely shower and shave ensued, and I bummed around the apartment in my oldest warm-ups and read Hellboy comics for a few hours.
Finally, I departed in search of food. Initially, I thought Jillian's for a little food and pool playing. I did play pool for a couple of hours but never decided on any food that looked promising.
Suddenly, garlic fries sounded really good, and I made a beeline for a local tavern that's somewhat famous for them. When I arrived, there were plenty of open tables, but the hostess was being a complete bitch--more interested in speaking with her friend than doing her job. She just waved absently at the bar area and went back to talking. I smiled, waited till she turned her attention back to me, and asked to speak to the manager. After my little chat, I got both their names and will be following up with higher-ranking people tomorrow. I hate servers that won't do their job.
During the day Muzencab reminded me that I needed a toga for PyroeroticA's Toga Party from Hell 2004. Being that I didn't want to sacrifice any of my good sheets to the mayhem, I trundled off to Fred Meyer. There a nice elderly woman helped me find a "white sheet, queen sized, cheap". When she politely tried to tell me that I needed more than that to make my bed, I replied, "It's okay: I'm only wearing it tonight." She stammered her disbelief, so I told the truth, "I'm wearing it to a party tonight with some friends that I met on a porn site." That was pretty much the end of the conversation.
When I realized that I didn't have any safety pins for the toga, I had almost the same incident. I bought some diaper pins--the only safety pin-like thing QFC had--and the cashier asked me how old my little one was. "They're for me."
I stopped at a local Indian place that I'd never tried before for dinner. I found a suitable looking entree and ordered. The pretty little Russian waitress (imagine an immigrant Russian girl's sexy accent trying to manage names of Indian food) asked me how spicy I wanted it. She blanched when I said five stars. I thought I was in serious trouble when the entire kitchen staff came out to watch when I tried my dish. I chewed, swallowed, and waited to be asked. When one of them predictably asked the sort of sneering "is that hot enough" type of question, I said, "I guess." They seemed so disappointed.
After that I left for the party. On the way, my cell rang and I looked down to see PunkJr's name. He was panicked because I'd...inadvertently sent him to the party half an hour before anyone else with a toga was going to show up. I reassured him that I'd be there, and indeed I made good on the promise twenty minutes later. Everyone seemed happy to see me, but that could just have been happiness to see my expensive vodka and case of Pabst Blue Ribbon walk in the door.
My toga was retarded--more of a Hepburn-worthy gown than a toga. However, PunkJr's lovely and sweet better half fixed me right up.
Then I moved on to watching the group devour my bottle of Ketel One and Rock Star energy drinks. I traded a couple of insults with SupremePizzaMan. I helped MrDeity tease Adore and told PyroeroticA that she looked hot (which was God's own truth).
MrDeity roped me into anchoring one of the tables at poker night. I'll have to make sure I remember the game, but it should be fun. It seems the longer I hang out with SGSeattle, the more of my old, drunken, gambling, party-boy face comes back out. Only history can say if that is a good or bad thing.
Not long after, Muzencab and MisterSatan showed their ugly mugs. Muzencab had outdone all of us in the toga department--with his Care Bears sheet. That was cute, but then he showed us the bright red, sparkly thong he was wearing. I think I may be been driven insane.
Kara and Volks arrived. Volks got pictures of the retards in togas. Kara was adorable as always, but I was reminded that truly these Suicide Girls are a tiny people.
I noticed Muzencab was wearing my sweater, and that still disturbs me. Once the gag was done with the togas, I went and changed, which I realized meant that I was naked in the middle of a residential street for about a minute. Score.
The rest of the night was a mishmash of watching PyroeroticA and Adore kiss at each other, playing the telephone game, chatting bikes with Volks and monkeypox, and watching PunkJr try to "dip" everyone that would dance with him--man, woman, or otherwise. Oh, and I kept randomly yelling, "Neighbors!" at Vikprez. At some point, PyroeroticA bit PunkJr on the biceps. I'm not sure whether the fact that she bit him or how much he whined about it was funnier.
Per MrDeity's comment, I realize that I was remiss in mentioning that a good portion of the group had a rousing good time playing Texas Held 'Em. I might have played, but Adore giving PyroeroticA a lap-dance was more captivating.
Roxy and DreamMaker showed up fashionably late. The former was in a super hotty-hot dress that she couldn't do anything other than walk as straight and tall as she could manage for fear of showing her ass--even if she did make sure to wear cute panties just in case. The latter had a bitchin' afro.
I talked to jwoody for a few minutes. I want to learn more about that tattoo he has on his forearm. Plus, he seemed like a cool cat, so I hope we see more of him in coming days. I saw kinnie and Amadio, but never talked to them. If I left anyone out, I'm sorry.
I finally did a slide exit at a quarter after three with Vikprez. As we were leaving, he told me we were going on a drunken, bitter man's pub-crawl for Valentine's Day. I suppose I'll have a good long entry for that one as well.
All in al, it was a pretty good day in the most Ice-Cube sort of ways.
K's Choice's "Not an Addict" was playing when I started writing this, and The Postal Service's "Such Great Heights" just finished. There's no symbolism inherent in that, but I am glad to hear good music today.
Finally, I departed in search of food. Initially, I thought Jillian's for a little food and pool playing. I did play pool for a couple of hours but never decided on any food that looked promising.
Suddenly, garlic fries sounded really good, and I made a beeline for a local tavern that's somewhat famous for them. When I arrived, there were plenty of open tables, but the hostess was being a complete bitch--more interested in speaking with her friend than doing her job. She just waved absently at the bar area and went back to talking. I smiled, waited till she turned her attention back to me, and asked to speak to the manager. After my little chat, I got both their names and will be following up with higher-ranking people tomorrow. I hate servers that won't do their job.
During the day Muzencab reminded me that I needed a toga for PyroeroticA's Toga Party from Hell 2004. Being that I didn't want to sacrifice any of my good sheets to the mayhem, I trundled off to Fred Meyer. There a nice elderly woman helped me find a "white sheet, queen sized, cheap". When she politely tried to tell me that I needed more than that to make my bed, I replied, "It's okay: I'm only wearing it tonight." She stammered her disbelief, so I told the truth, "I'm wearing it to a party tonight with some friends that I met on a porn site." That was pretty much the end of the conversation.
When I realized that I didn't have any safety pins for the toga, I had almost the same incident. I bought some diaper pins--the only safety pin-like thing QFC had--and the cashier asked me how old my little one was. "They're for me."
I stopped at a local Indian place that I'd never tried before for dinner. I found a suitable looking entree and ordered. The pretty little Russian waitress (imagine an immigrant Russian girl's sexy accent trying to manage names of Indian food) asked me how spicy I wanted it. She blanched when I said five stars. I thought I was in serious trouble when the entire kitchen staff came out to watch when I tried my dish. I chewed, swallowed, and waited to be asked. When one of them predictably asked the sort of sneering "is that hot enough" type of question, I said, "I guess." They seemed so disappointed.
After that I left for the party. On the way, my cell rang and I looked down to see PunkJr's name. He was panicked because I'd...inadvertently sent him to the party half an hour before anyone else with a toga was going to show up. I reassured him that I'd be there, and indeed I made good on the promise twenty minutes later. Everyone seemed happy to see me, but that could just have been happiness to see my expensive vodka and case of Pabst Blue Ribbon walk in the door.
My toga was retarded--more of a Hepburn-worthy gown than a toga. However, PunkJr's lovely and sweet better half fixed me right up.
Then I moved on to watching the group devour my bottle of Ketel One and Rock Star energy drinks. I traded a couple of insults with SupremePizzaMan. I helped MrDeity tease Adore and told PyroeroticA that she looked hot (which was God's own truth).
MrDeity roped me into anchoring one of the tables at poker night. I'll have to make sure I remember the game, but it should be fun. It seems the longer I hang out with SGSeattle, the more of my old, drunken, gambling, party-boy face comes back out. Only history can say if that is a good or bad thing.
Not long after, Muzencab and MisterSatan showed their ugly mugs. Muzencab had outdone all of us in the toga department--with his Care Bears sheet. That was cute, but then he showed us the bright red, sparkly thong he was wearing. I think I may be been driven insane.
Kara and Volks arrived. Volks got pictures of the retards in togas. Kara was adorable as always, but I was reminded that truly these Suicide Girls are a tiny people.
I noticed Muzencab was wearing my sweater, and that still disturbs me. Once the gag was done with the togas, I went and changed, which I realized meant that I was naked in the middle of a residential street for about a minute. Score.
The rest of the night was a mishmash of watching PyroeroticA and Adore kiss at each other, playing the telephone game, chatting bikes with Volks and monkeypox, and watching PunkJr try to "dip" everyone that would dance with him--man, woman, or otherwise. Oh, and I kept randomly yelling, "Neighbors!" at Vikprez. At some point, PyroeroticA bit PunkJr on the biceps. I'm not sure whether the fact that she bit him or how much he whined about it was funnier.
Per MrDeity's comment, I realize that I was remiss in mentioning that a good portion of the group had a rousing good time playing Texas Held 'Em. I might have played, but Adore giving PyroeroticA a lap-dance was more captivating.
Roxy and DreamMaker showed up fashionably late. The former was in a super hotty-hot dress that she couldn't do anything other than walk as straight and tall as she could manage for fear of showing her ass--even if she did make sure to wear cute panties just in case. The latter had a bitchin' afro.
I talked to jwoody for a few minutes. I want to learn more about that tattoo he has on his forearm. Plus, he seemed like a cool cat, so I hope we see more of him in coming days. I saw kinnie and Amadio, but never talked to them. If I left anyone out, I'm sorry.
I finally did a slide exit at a quarter after three with Vikprez. As we were leaving, he told me we were going on a drunken, bitter man's pub-crawl for Valentine's Day. I suppose I'll have a good long entry for that one as well.
All in al, it was a pretty good day in the most Ice-Cube sort of ways.
K's Choice's "Not an Addict" was playing when I started writing this, and The Postal Service's "Such Great Heights" just finished. There's no symbolism inherent in that, but I am glad to hear good music today.
VIEW 8 of 8 COMMENTS
volks:
Nice chatting with you last night. Took some time to put up all those pics but there you go. (Probably not as long as it took to write a whole recap on the evening).
muzencab:
I'll get all the ruby sparkles off your shirt.