Monday, September 1, 2008

Sunday night Whinos

Here I am at the beginning of September. The unofficial last day of summer. "Good riddence" I says. This has certainly been a summer to forget. Especially since the highlights of the summer include discovering the Boone's Chug and having a drunk girl in Goose Bay try to give me a handjob in the middle of a crowded bar.
I didn't have sex either. Me and David Duchovny should hang out. I could straighten him out. This is the longest time I have gone without having sex since I lost my virginity. It actually doesn't bother me that much. I have been stood up too many times recently to give a shit about women ri
ght now.

Enough of the chickenshit-bullshit. Let's talk about this weekend... weeee!
I didn't go into work on Friday. I had an appointment that morning and took the day off to go to it. This meant I could sleep in a little later. I ended up at The Ship on Thursday night. Cherie Pyne released a CD there t
hat night. I bought the CD. Unfortunately, most of the songs that she played that I had enjoyed were on one or more of her previous records. Paul Warford told me an attractive girl was giving me the up and down while we were there. He did not tell me this though until we were in the car, on the way home. "Thanks, shithead" I said. If she was hanging out at The Ship, I would say that she was a little too artsy for me. She's the kind of girl who wouldn't have sex with me because I once ate beef jerky. Get over it. Vegetables aren't everything.
Friday night was at Robert Shandera's house. He turned 27 this weekend and he invited a crowd over to celebrate. Robert Shande
ra invited many single women to his party. A true pal. None of these girl showed up though. They all went to send a girl off to Australia. It was just as well. It was lost. It was a boy's night. I did a Boone's chug. Kirk and Miranda showed up and announced their engagment. That just leaves Me, Warford and Pike.
Saturday was one of the days the three of us will talk about years from now. Shandera, Warford and myself drove out to Spaniard's Bay to get fitted for our tuxedos for Shandera's wedding. We walk in and te
ll the missus who were are and what we are doing there and she goes around the corner to get nice clothes for us to try on. We wander the shop, making fun of silly dresses and trying on top hats. Me and warford are in a corner where there is a mannequin wearing a wedding dress. I walk up behind the headless woman and start grinding her. I turn on my camera and tell warford to make love to the lifeless form. He gets behind the mannequin, places his hands on her hips and starts thrusting, much to our delight. Missus comes back around the corner and shouts "Get outta dat!" Laughter ensues. Missus goes back around the corner and warford makes his way towards the mannequin and whispers "c'mon, c'mon get a shot of this hee hee" He resumes thrusting the mannequin from behind when the missus comes around the corner and catches him doing it AGAIN! Missus bawls out: "Now Paul, what would yer mudder think if she knew you were doin' dat!?" I really wish I had a movie of the whole thing. Still photography will have to do.

After we get fitted and we see our parents, we go to Ernie Green's for a feed of chicken, potato and lard. A tasty treat. My car still smells like garlic and savory.
Saturday night was full of inspiration. I wa
s hungry and my eyes could have used visine....
Sunday was Robert's birthday. We decided to go to comedy and then hit the street for tomfoolery. Comedy was pretty good. There was a girl there who i had not seen before. Her name was Mikaela and she was funny. Not a typical female comedian. Nothing was typical about her. She was funny (duh), smart and absolutely attractive in my eyes. Warford told me she had perfomed here before but hadn't been around in a long time. After the show I went up and talked to her in an attempt to find out more about this woman that intrigued me so much. Turns out she hadn't done comedy in a while at the Victory because she lives in fucking Toronto and is home for a few days. Alas, my world continues to spin on.
We leave the comedy 3/4 of the way cocked. We immediately turn into a dark alley where myself and warford take turns drinking a bottle of homemade wine from his father. This is where the night goes downhill for me. We end up at Greensleeves downing pint after pint and shouting requests to the poor musician on the stage. "Play Metallica! I bet you can't fucking play Metallica!" He did. On an acoustic guitar no less. I don't remember much about leaving. A friend of a friend saw me and later said "I wasn't fit and could barely stand up" That sounds about right.
We are walking down the street and I see I girl I know. For a while I had an interest in her. That's a different story. Anyways, I approach her and say "hello". She looks up and gives a cheerful "Hi" that she is known for. It is at this point I realize how drunk I am really am. I don't know what to do. So I tell her the truth'
"Uh, I'm too drunk to talk to you right now" I say. Then walk away.
I guess I won't be calling her anytime soon.
I then ate a hotdog, went home and threw up. First time in a long time. I was due. I needed that hangover too. Made me realize the messes I am putting myself in.

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