Your ever artful and jocose blogmaniac is back home in South Florida after a long weekend with the ever effectually breathtaking A*.
We did a whole lot of nothing (with a smidge of somethings here and there). A perfect "no plans" weekend of doing whatever whim flew to our fancy.
I was introduced to (read:auditioned for) one of her closest friends, Dan. I've been a fan of his blog for months and it was really first-rate to finally meet this clever 'non compos'.
They took me to Therapy (the bar, not the remedial treatment). A* was so proud that I had no issue having a drink in a gay bar.
So I sit here, right now, and wonder... what 'issue' with a bar like Therapy might I coulda woulda had? After some brainstorming I can only come up with ten potential issues I coulda woulda had:
1) Hmmm, too much like the Ale House back home - a goddamn sausage factory... where are the chicks!?!
2) The bar snacks were all tiny diamond shaped blue pills and they tasted like chalk
3) How can anyone expect to get drunk with all of this CPR training going on? Sheesh looks like everyone is having trouble breathing....
4) If I had KNOWN daisy-dukes were back in style I would of packed my pair (he said, "packed")
5) How am I supposed to know champagne and cosmos are on special if there is no sign?
6) How much do you tip a bathroom attendant that is THAT friendly? I felt foolish thinking the two-tap rule should always be followed.
7) The gum in foil square packs taste like ass
8) How am I supposed to know you get a discount if you have a shaved head or wear just an undershirt? NO ONE tells me ANYTHING.
9) They must have a bug problem. I looked around and everyone was swatting the air when they talked.
10) "But, sir, it doesn't taste like a popsicle..."