Blog Like It's Hot

I am going to blog like it’s en fuego was the first thing I thought this morning. I feel INSPIRED. Hot Canadian chicks are good like that. I think Smelly with be my muse the way Raymi is Tony’s muse. Although Tony has got more muses than I have pairs of underwear, and I keep my drawer stocked. Pretty women inspire everything. Even each other. My stereo alarm was going off for 45 minutes before I got my sad ass out of bed to turn it off. I shut that bitch up and turned right around and slid right back into bed. I determined that I would not sleep away my morning but there was some morning bidness that had to be taken care of before I could get up. But before I could finish my door bell started ringing like the world was on fire. Fuck who could that be. Another round of manic ringing and I got up and put on my pants and trudged off toward the front windows. I thought it’s not the 1st so it isn’t the landlord. I have killed anyone in a while so it isn’t the police. Can’t see who is there from the window. It’s a man but standing to close to the building for a proper ID. I amble down the stairs pulling on my shirt. There is only one other person who rings my bell like that. . Shaft. Shaft himself graced my presence. Unannounced. As usual.

He is doing well. Clean and sober. We went to lunch at the best hole-in-the wall Cuban place in Chicago. Pancho’s. If you are ever in Chicago look it up. He has being chillin’ with the girl friend and is going to buy a house with her. A big ass $550,000 house in Oak Park. That’s what not spending $1000 a month on alcohol will do for you. There are going to rent out their current places. He mentioned the M word. Shaft, the M word. Who woulda thunk it. He said it is time to settle down. Settle down is a phrase that is even more unsettling than the M word. I wish him luck.

He told me that he saw my ex-girlfriend Blondie 3 times over the summer. 3 times. Bastard never told me. Her and her sister apparently play softball on a team that played against Shaft’s girlfriend’s team for the championship. He only talked to them once. Shaft briefly dated Blondie’s twin sister (also dubbed Blondie, yes it gets confusing) but that was a mess for another day. Blondie. I miss her still. After 2 ½ years. I don’t know if it is just because I got dumped or because I was in love. I always thought she had long term potential. My problem was I didn’t act like it. She was the only woman since the divorce that I considered having something long-term or permanent with. Bad timing. Bad attitude on my part. I was fully steeped in the Vortex at that point, and when hanging out with Romans you tend to do as Romans do. Read as Eat, Drink, and Do Mary. Maybe someday you will get the whole Blondie story. Maybe even a new Blondie story. We shall see.

Time to be productive. Might go out tonight. Can’t afford it but I have no will power.

Friday Night Was Made For Fighting

Or for drinking, or making an ass out of your self or whatever.

I met the Trixies at Sushi Samba Rio about 30 minutes late. Of course. I thought I was doing OK because I hadn’t gotten a where the fuck are you phone call. Turns out my phone was just fucking with me because I called them at about 8:25 to make sure they were there and they were like yeah where the fuck are you we are waiting to order, and as soon as I hung up my phone showed the missed phone calls from 30 minutes prior. I arrived and it was The Blonde One, Ballbreaker, Trixie and Hippie Chick.

Prior to dinner Trixie and Hippie Chick didn’t have nicknames prior to dinner but they evolved as the evening proceeded.

Trixie receives her name by default. She really has no other distinguishing characteristic other than being a trixie which of course is the defining characteristic of a trixie. She is a trixie wanna be. The Blonde One is a trixie because her beliefs and actions put her in that category but I believe Trixie forms her beliefs and actions so as to be a trixie. She was wearing a top that could be easily mistaken for a piece of lingerie. Ballbreaker called it her pajamas, although not to her face. I however made it a point later in the evening to tell Trixie that it looked like lingerie. Trixie never seemed to add much to the conversation. I asked her at one point what she did for a living and she said Finance. I guess that is a legitimate answer but you would think she could be more specific. Are you a back teller? Are you selling your ass on the street? What the fuck does finance mean. Jesus.

Hippie Chick is definitely not a trixie. She is not blonde and isn’t ashamed of the fact. She seemed down to earth and pleasant, but didn’t really say much until she had had a couple of drinks but left soon after that. The name hippie chick may not really apply and I will have to re-evaluate the moniker if I ever meet her again and/or have any type of meaningful conversation with her. The name came about because her blouse had this small flowery pattern, and she just seemed to have a more laidback holistic view She was nicely dressed but nothing you would go “ooooh where’d yo get that” or mistake it for a major label, but nice. . She wasn’t carrying a hemp purse or wearing Birkenstocks but when laid upon the canvas that is the trixies the contrast is startling.

Upon arriving the waitress chastised me for make for attractive ladies wait. She said I will give you a moment to look over the drink men- SoCo Coke ok I’ll be right back. Drink menu my ass. People who can’t figure out what they want to drink drive me nuts. You must have some idea of what you like. Especially the people who claim to be big drinkers and then when you ask them what they want they are all um, er, ah. Drink already and shut the hell up.

Ballbreaker looked classy as always. The Blonde One, blonde. The small talk before dinner was just that, small. Dinner was mediocre for the prices set. The ambiance was very cool and the people were good looking and trendy but probably not worth the cost. I vaguely remember some slightly interesting conversation at dinner but nothing I can remember. The Blonde One’s friend Matt (not unique enough for a nickname) joined us as we finished dinner. After dinner we went upstairs to the rooftop lounge which was cool but more crowded than a Wrigley field men’s room after a long top of the 7th. We got up there and found a place to stand where we wouldn’t be trampled or bumped into every ten minutes and they were just standing around and I could quite here what they were saying so I asked “Are we staying?” which seemed to puzzle them and they said “it is way more crowded than earlier” to which I replied “Are we staying or going somewhere else?” and they couldn’t quite figure out that I was asking why we were standing there without drinks and no one was making any attempt to get closer to the bar and the alcohol. So I took drink orders and BB followed me up to the bar knowing that it would be too much to carry. This is my down fall. I am not going to sit around waiting for someone else to take charge and I am usually the first to finish my drink and I am not going to be an ass and go up and get my own drink without offering one to the others in the group and I therefore always end up buying more rounds than everyone else, especially when in a group of women. Ball Breaker ordered a Ketel One Cosmo because who wants well Vodka, right? So it shows up and there are these little things floating in her drink. I have had whole slices of fruit in my drink and not noticed until the glass was empty. To her credit, rather than start yelling or complaining she asked what they were, thinking it may be parsley or something else added into the drink on purpose. Turned out it was mint from the last mojito the bartender made in the same shaker. The bartender apologized profusely (not needed) and made another one. I ended taking all the drinks back anyway while BB waited for her drink. I of course finished my drink before the girly girls, but waited until The Blonde one and Matt were almost ready for a drink before I went and got a second round. Yes I got the second round too. Hippie Chick waved off another drink saying that she had to work and was already pretty buzzed. She had had only two. Trixie wasn’t even half way into her drink. BB was more than half done so in my mind she was ready for another one. I ordered the round and had received two of the four drinks and was watching the bartender make the Cosmo when I saw her mouth the word “fuck” and then dump the Cosmo. When she got closer I asked her what happened. “More mint” She had to dump the Cosmo, rinse out the shaker and start all over. Fuck. I would have been kinda pissed off too. It was pretty busy in there and to have to remake drinks must be a pain in the ass.




Hippie Chick was gone by the time I got back with the round. There was a guy behind us wearing this pretty ugly loud shirt. He started talking to us because he heard me talking about working in the ER and he said he was a Cardiologist. (The girls were doubtful but they way he talked made him seem possible ligit) We talked little bit, then I asked him if he was drunk when he put the shirt on. He laughed and said you better talk to my wife, she dressed me. I personally would say I got dressed drunk before I would ever admit that my wife dressed me. He went over and told his friends what I had said and they laughed. Then he told the wife. She didn’t appear amused.





I hadn't even realized I had gotten a picture of the shirt until I went to post this picture.


Me, Ball Breaker

Some guys near us left and we got to sit down. That is when I whipped out the camera again. The girls were sitting down and BB grabbed Trixie’s leg and pulled it across her lap. Giving us what Trixie later called


The Beaver Shot (l-r The Blonde One, Ball Breaker, and Trixie)

I told her that I would have never noticed if she hadn’t pointed it out and to stop complaining, she wasn’t wearin’ a skirt or nothin’. Whiny bitch. I did tell her I thought it was cool that a woman called it a Beaver Shot, then she told me Ball Breaker had dubbed it that. Extra Points. BB continues to impress me.


Trixie

Trixie kept whining for me to delete the beaver shot so I took this one of BB to even things out.


After one more drink for me and Matt we all went to Mystic Celt to meet

The Flake. The Flake is another non-trixish member of the trixies. She is a girly girl and loves accessories and all that crap but is laid back and doesn’t spend a lot on clothes and such and is pretty granola bar. If she wasn’t such a flake her name would be hippie chick. She is the kind of girl who makes plans with you and then forgets the entire conversation ever occurred. She once told us a bunch of stories from when she was younger. Brother was there and asked how when the story took place. College. I think he spit out his drink. “I thought you were going to say high school, or when I was fourteen. College. Nice.” She pretty much had Brother rolling the entire time. She is fun to hang out with sometimes and is truly a nice person (something hard to say about the other trixies) but That Drunk Girl and I would just have to look at each other and shake our heads. And other times avoid each other’s gaze in fear of busting out laughing. Once on The Ass’ Birthday he was making sarcastic comments and she was getting completely offended and for once he wasn’t trying to be offensive and I had to translate what he said into what he meant. The Ass just looked and at me and said “Yeah, that’s it.” I think it was one of the only few times I have impressed him. She still didn’t get it. But you gotta keep some nice people around even if they are flaky. And flaky people can be entertaining.

I some how didn’t get a pic of The Flake, but I got a couple pictures at Mystic Celt.


Group Hug


I like this one

Not only did I not get pics of The Flake I also failed to photograph sad excuses of masculinity that accompanied her. Bald Guy, some people can pull off bald, he could not. And Dorky Guy. I mean full on dorky guy. I fully admit that I am a tall dorky white guy but I am beginning to realize that in that category I am the cream of the crop. It is not hard to look like Indiana Jones when you are surrounded by the cast of I am Sam. I teased Trixie asking her if she got dorky guy’s number and she almost spit out her drink. She said he kept touching her back while he talked to her, and there was no where for her to move so he couldn’t touch her back. I laughed but later thought she was being a little prissy. I will touch a woman’s back while talking to her in a bar. But not during the first 3 minutes. Dorky guy needs to work on his timing. And get the women drunker first. Like buy her four shots, then start talking to her. I so wish I had pictures.

We went to a third bar and there is more story but it is 4:30 in the AM and if I don't post this now you won't get it until Wednesday. But I will tell you


Ballbreaker got drunk

PS- If Trixie was upset about the Beaver shot then it is a good thing she didn't see the cleavage in the group hug shot.