Mother Fuck!

First, As I type this the Nicks are having an extremely gay half naked pillow fight in our hotel room.
What a Day. I'm going to skip over the drive to San Diego by saying that the only thing worth mentioning is our discovery of "Islands in the Stream" on Spicoli's ipod. Many mean spirited texts ensued.
We met Boo at a club in the gas lamp district. I paid $25 for the cab ride from the hotel, $20 cover charge, and $20 for the first round of drinks. Nice!
The club was a trendy place called Belo. I was under dressed. The dueche bags in this place took it a step further and were rockin' pin striped blazers with their $300 jeans and striped shirts. I didn't care. I was just drinking my Red Bull and Vodkas and enjoying myself when an attractive blonde walked right up to me and said, "I know you're just waiting for three nice girls so you can buy them shots."
I chuckled to myself and, pointing to Boo (who was wearing a white sport coat with the sleeves rolled up and dress shoes with no socks) I replied, "Don't you think that guy looks a little more gullible?"
They walked away. A short time later I grabbed her as she walked by. I directed her attention to Boo who was standing in the middle of the bar with his fly open and a $1 bill sticking out of his pants.
Me: You're an attractive girl. You probably go to clubs like these fairly often. Do you think that is an effective tactic? You know, to lure women.
Her: (luaghing) Well, I don't really find him attractive, but it is funny.
Her: I tell you what. I'll buy you a shot now and if you're still here in 30 minutes you can buy me one. Fair?
We had two shots of Patron. I licked salt off her chest. she dragged me onto the dance floor and we did a little bump and grind. When we exited the dance floor she was all up on me and talking about how we would never see each other again after tonight.
I was IN, going for the kiss...
Then, out of nowhere, she looks over her right shoulder and says, "I gotta go." Spins on her heels and takes off.
WHAT THE FUCK?!
Why is this becoming a pattern? I don't get it.

It put me in such a bad mood that later, when PZ sprinkled pepper in my orange juice while I was in the bathroom of the all night diner, I had to kill him.

On The Road Again...

Tomorrow, err..later today I am embarking on a roadie with PZ and The General. we're heading to Diego to hook up with Bo and take in the Chargers v. Titans game. this evening PZ accompanied me to Roosters. It was his first time. We met my buddy Albie there around eleven. Here are a few highlights...

• As we enter the house band is playing the theme from Dukes of Hazard. Absolutely perfect timing. To PZ's credit he correctly identified it as Merle Haggard.
• One of Albie's coworkers is there with his wife and her friend. I introduce myself to the friend. we have this exchange...

Her: We've met before.

Me: Really?

Her: yeah, at this bar. You asked me to dance.

Me: (Getting embarrased) Yeah?

Her: Yeah, you were wearing that same Johnny Cash T-shirt.

PZ: (standing next to me) HAhahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahhahahaha!!!!!!

• There was only one atractive woman that made eye contact with me tonight. At one point she was taking pictures with her digital camera as her friend was bent over being spanked with some cowboy's belt. PZ walked up to her and proceeded to inquire about her camera, "So, how many pixels does that thing have?"
• There was a man that bared a remarkable resemblence to Hall of Fame closer Dennis Eckersley that was seen dancing with the cougar that I wrote about in an earlier post. This lead to inumerable jokes about "The Eck" and his closing skills and culminated in a drunken PZ boldly stating, "I'm gonna go ask him why he threw Gibson that slider."
• PZ busted my chops after I (apparently) "big leagued" him by saying that I make a point of tipping the band every time I go there and then dropping $2 in the tip bucket on the stage. It seems that unless I am funding their next tour my observation that a lot of people dance the night away but never approach the tip bucket is just laughable. PZ spent the rest of the evening sporadically yelling, "I want my two dollars!"