Posts Tagged 'alcohol'

Beer good.

Jools (to bartender): I’d like a Jack and Diet please.
Me: Hey! What are you doing ordering my favorite drink? (naturally, no one else on the planet is allowed to drink my drink)
Bartender Dan: Do you want one as well?
Me: Um no. I’m sort of banned from Jack Daniels.
Bartender Dan: Really? Why? Do you do stupid stuff when you drink it?
Me: You could say that…
Jools: IT MAKES HER RANDY!

(a few minutes later)

Bartender Dan (to the guy sitting next to me): I think you should buy her a shot of Jack Daniels.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jools (who is from South Africa): Hey, what does douchebag mean exactly? Doesn’t it mean dork or something?
Me: No! It means something worse than asshole!
Jools: Oh shit! I just called the manager a douchebag!

Last night, Jools and I went to the Exotic Dancer National Championship. Highlights included:

  • A woman putting on a puppet show between her legs. It was set to the song, ‘The Devil Went Down to Georgia’ and the puppet was the devil who played the ‘fiddle’.
  • A fire breather who couldn’t even get the torches lit. Even after 5 tries.
  • A chick sliding around on the wet floor. It was actually pretty entertaining.

It was pretty entertaining and made me miss my pole dancing classes. Afterward, we went out in East Atlanta Village, which will be the home of my new watering hole when I move. We had so much fun and made friends with bartenders, managers and even a cop. At one bar, most of our drinks were comped which was quite refreshing since a certain establishment doesn’t seem to care about their patrons very much.

When the night was over, we stopped at Krystals and devoured several mini cheeseburgers and chili cheese fries.

Today I woke up and realized I only spent $15 the entire night (including Krystals). I also woke up with another bottle of hot sauce in my purse.

That, my friend, is a whole other story.

Weekend Wackiness in Picture Form

In Atlanta, we get a fair number of severe storms in the Spring. The first big storm of the season happened on the night of the Braves home opener, a game I attended. All afternoon, the wind was gusting and the sky looked incredibly ominous,

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but a few beers at the tailgating spot kept us from thinking about it.

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(Some humping was going on)

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(I captured this incredible photo. I call it ‘Stairwell Placement Fail’)

Halfway through the 3rd inning, the floodgates opened and started pouring rain on us.

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Our group took shelter under an escalator behind the Top of the Chop and in the process of securing better shelter, a concession cart was rolled onto my foot.

Then, it started hailing.

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After 15 minutes or so, it cleared off enough for us to find a first aid tent to bandage my badly bleeding toe. They took pictures of the injury and asked me a million questions about how it happened before putting a bandage on it and sending me on my way.

At this point, our group had scattered and everyone decided to leave and regroup at a friend’s house. There may have been a bottle of Jose Cuervo in the car ride there, and I may have gotten a contact high from the weed my friends were smoking.

Back at my friend’s house, I met a robot.

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We hit it off.

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(notice the bloody toe)

After watching a married guy hit on two girls, my friend and I decided to mosey back to our neck of the woods and we had one drink at Cheers before I decided I had enough fun for the night. Plus, I had a busy day on Saturday.

Because my party was that night.

******

That day, Serial and went to Party City (and Old Navy, and H&M, and Banana Republic and a bunch of other places that had nothing to do with our party. We get sidetracked.) to get some money decorations since it was recession themed.

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(gotta have bling)

Serial made jello shots and I made a vodka punch.

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(It’s like easter eggs for adults!)

Serial had too much vodka in a short period of time and up and left at 11 without telling anyone goodbye.

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(the last picture of Serial before she did her disappearing act. The person on the phone showed up to the party a short time later and said he couldn’t understand what she was saying. She is now banned from vodka. Forever)

The party raged on for a few more hours (the wig and cowboy hat made an appearance)

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and after the alcohol ran out, the last of us headed to Cheers (especially since Grabs was mad at a boy and needed another beer). I may have taken a few shots and got dancing fever.

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SOMEHOW, I woke up this morning without the least bit of a hangover (except being slightly tired from going to bed at 4 am) which was good because I had to do the family thing for Easter.

Church is a lot more entertaining when you have a baby in your lap.

Afterwards, we met at my parents house for lunch and my grandmother told me I was fat. Her exact words were “You and I are getting really fat”. And then proceeded to tell me how hard it is to lose weight.

Yay.

Then, my mom was chatting with a friend whose son was getting married and made the comment “Aren’t you happy to have all of your kids married?”

Yay again.

THEN, my mom’s friend came over (who has one schizophrenic son and another who has no goals for life, and therefore is living vicariously through my mom) and called herself Granny around my brother’s girls much to the chagrin of me and Sisinlaw. She gave everyone Easter cards except for me.

Yay times 3.

And now I’m reminded why I want to leave Atlanta.

It’s still gonna happen. Just not as soon as I had hoped.

When I finally managed to escape, I had the fun task of cleaning up after the party. I filled 4 trash bags with bottles and cups.

And with that, another fun weekend is over. Back to the grind tomorrow.

And speaking of Easter and sacreligious stuff, my comment count is currently at 666. Please post a comment. That’s a little creepy.

Things I plan to blog about in the near future

My new (and awesome) job.
The recession party Serial and I are having.
Caribbean Festivus.
Bar adventures.

But they will have to wait a while longer.

St. Pat’s Fail

Oh I love my life. Halfway into my second jumbo beer at Cheer’s St. Patrick’s day party, I saw a guy I thought looked familiar. I approached him and asked where I knew him from, and he immediately looked offended. Not a good sign. When I told him I meet a lot of people, he looked even more offended but eventually revealed his identity. Something I now wish he hadn’t done. Yes kids, the mystery guy was none other than Perky Nipple Dude from the Young Republicans event. Yeah. I rock. I realized he was reasonably attractive, so after apologizing, I started chatting with him and, as it turned out, he was really interested in me. Then he started following me around and tried not once, not twice, but three times to kiss me. Not just leaning in, but grabbing my face and pulling it towards his waiting lips. Suddenly reasonably attractive turned into drunk and sketchy. I eventually escaped his clutches and made my way outside but Serial didn’t want to give up her prime location. So I wait til the coast was clear and snuck back in. Minutes later, he returned.

He accused Serial of being high because her eyes were dialated and then began molesting me right there in the bar. Serial and I were sitting on top of a side bar and he spread my legs and began gyrating against me. Then began thrusting. I had visions of what sex would be like with him and it wasn’t a pretty image. Finally Serial and I managed to escape and I decided I had enough fun for one evening. Because the party was so big, I had to park in the neighboring shopping center’s parking lot – and was assured by the parking attendant that my car would be fine there. When I arrived back at my car, I was shocked to find a boot on my car and every other car in the lot. FML. As it turned out, Cheer’s owner was notified that all the cars in that lot were going to be booted and chose not to inform any of the patrons. Further proof that the owner is a total asshole.

And so that ended the massive fail that was St. Pats. Serial and I both decided we need to find a new local bar because Cheers just isn’t doing anything for us anymore. We love our bartenders but the owner and some of the patrons make it less enjoyable for us each visit.

And now I’m out of $50 I didn’t have to start with. Thank God for my new job!


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