It's Friday BABY!!!

Ok, it's ten after four on Friday. That means I have 20 minutes to finish my billing before I hit the road for the lake. Awesome! Do I have anything exciting to talk about? Not really.
Last night I met Scottie Too Hottie up at the High Point Pub at 7 for a few cocktails. I got into a conversation with the local barflies about things. Somehow the conversation turned to which brain men think with. I'm 26. These men were 45+ in age. I said something like "you know how your little soldier does the thinking for you?" One of them said "Son, my little soldier hasn't had any thoughts in about 2 years besides peeing." So men, that's what we have to look forward to.
After that we met up with 4 other guys at El Porton. I had a jumbo margarita and 4 flautas. Yeah, they sucked. Well the margarita was good, but the flautas sucked. I guess I'm going back to eating chimichangas next time I go there.
Ok, that's all I'm going to talk about. Have a great weekend. Chase some strange tail.

Songs on the Playlist:
Franz Ferdinand - Take Me Out
Widespread Panic - Don't Tell the Band


Saturday/Sunday Recap Jersey Trip (with HNT)

So hopefully you’ve finished reading the previous post before you start this one (it recaps Friday day and night). If you haven’t read it, GO READ IT! I’M NOT TELLING ANY MORE BACK STORY. Oh, and I’m sorry it was so long. But damn was it fun.
Well it is Thursday which means I have to do this damn HNT. So here is a pic of me with the bride’s sister. I hate this short week. If this doesn't count, oh well.
Now, back to the story:

So Saturday morning I awoke with a hangover I wouldn’t have wished on my worst enemy. Mikey had to pick up his tux at Chazmatazz. I honestly believe we were still drunk when we got in the Impala. We walked into the mall with our sunglasses still on. He went into the store while I sat on a bench and prayed for sweet release from the anguish my body was going through. I told you it was a bad hangover. Despite the hangover my eyes were actually working well enough to FINALLY see some Jersey hair. Yeah, I felt like I was at a Bon Jovi concert in 1986. It was ugly. She must own stock in Aquanet. But like an idiot, I left my camera in the hotel. So you can’t bask in the trash that is Jersey Hair.
After Mikey got his tux we walked to the car. We noticed on the way out of the mall that there was a TGIFridays. But it didn’t open until 11:30. We looked at our watches. It was 11. So do we wait for 30 minutes so we can get a bloody mary and cure our hangovers or do we behave and head back to the hotel? What do you think we did?!? It’s Bloody Mary time baby!!! So we stood like addicts waiting on the doors to open. Mikey stayed outside to finish a cigarette. I walked to the bar and ordered a bloody. The bloody mary came and I finally got my sweet release from that damn hangover. Then I noticed that we had two HOT bartenders. Smoking hot. I realized how much I was beginning to like New Jersey. Then they started talking. And they went from 9’s to 8’s. Yeah, I’m picky. Sue me. Anyway, this proves the old adage that
We went back to the hotel and started watching world cup matches. The wedding was at 2, but we had to be there at 1:15 (I caught a ride with the bridal party up there). So I was there 45 minutes early and got a great seat on the groom’s side. I looked around the church which was a very old Catholic Church. This is the stained glass window in the back.
Then I looked down and read over the program or pamphlet or whatever the hell you call it. Schedule? I don’t know. This proves one of three things. Either the bride and groom have a great sense of humor or they have no sense of humor OR I have a dirty mind. You decide which it is. This is what I saw in the program:
It is the prelude. You know, the song that is played before they walk into the church and start the wedding mass. In case your eyes can't read it, the song title is "Air on a G String." I guess that must be the classical version of Thong Song.
So it was a beautiful service and a wonderful wedding. I was very thankful to be there. After it was over I hung out at the church. The night before I had asked the groom if I could catch a ride in the Hummer limo with the bridal party to the reception. He said it was cool since I wasn’t supposed to drive Mikey’s car. I really just didn’t want to drive up there and not party. So I waited while they took all the pics. “ALL” being the key word there. The photographer was German so the process was very efficient and organized. Very Prussian. “Ein! Swein! Ein! Swein! Ve are takink pictures now! Schnell!!!” Ok, she didn’t say that, but you get the idea. So after an hour and half of pics, it was time to pile into the limo and head to the rehearsal. I suddenly get the message that the limo is for the wedding party only. I was pissed at first but it ended up being cooler than I first thought. I got to ride with the bride’s brother and his wife AND their adorable 14 month old daughter. She was precious and I was in charge of the sippy cup. Momma had the goldfish, but I had the most important job. Why? Because the baby kept asking for it. Not with words, but with grunts, squeals, and hand gestures. So we get to the rehearsal way earlier than the limo. Sounded like more bar time for me.
The other upside of missing the limo ride was I didn’t get chastised for going to a liquor store for the ride to the rehearsal. AND I didn’t have to witness one of the bridesmaids get sick (read: friggin puke) in the limo. Fortunately they had a plastic bag from the booze they picked up.
The reception was held at the local country club in Princeton. Beautiful area. Beautiful setup. Full bar. Huge appetizer spread. Five course meal for a seated dinner. But the best part was being there with old and new friends. I’ll save you a full recap of the rehearsal. I’ll give you the highlights of the evening (as I’m not sure if I can remember everything that happened). But I’m going to start with the low point.
As much fun as the entire weekend was, there was one bad thing that happened. Before the reception began, one of the bridesmaids received a phone call from her husband. He called her to tell her that he was thinking about getting a divorce. I’m sorry. I understand that I don’t know the state of their lives or what’s going on, but that is not the time or place for that. I mean that is a real shitty thing to do. So the groom asked every single (unattached) guy there to dance with her once she came back up to the reception as a way to cheer her up. And at one point it looked like there was a line of men waiting to ask her to dance and all she said was no thank you each time. And each time I could tell she appreciated them asking, but she really didn’t want to dance or anything like that. From across the table, I said “hey, let’s go outside and get away from these dancing fools. What do you say?” She smiled and said “sure.” We went out and hung with a group of folks we both knew on the veranda. Everyone was laughing and telling crude jokes. It seemed like she started having a better time. I don’t think she forgot about things, but I hope it made her evening a little better.
I danced with three of the groom’s sisters…at once. Actually I started dancing with one and two others joined in. We hit about 5 songs. The first two were slow songs and then they kicked up the temp. As soon as they kicked it up, the other two jumped out there. We had a blast.
I’m trying to remember what else happened. So I’ll start by doing a drink recap. I started with 3 glasses of champagne. After that I switched and had 3 Coronas. I was about halfway through my third Corona when I saw someone with a draught Guinness. I said “whoa” and went straight to the bar. I think I had about 5 or 6 pints of Guinness the rest of the night.
I had a few rounds of tequila shots with both my friends and some Yankees. I think I told the Yankees that if they wouldn’t take the shot with me, I’d make the South secede, and we’d come back with an army to make them take shots. They laughed and we toasted the happy couple.
Another time at the bar, this one Yankee girl started flirting with me in front of her boyfriend/date. About 10 of us had just taken a tequila shot, and she starts in with the whole “you’re accent is so cute. Blah blah blah.” She was touching my shoulder and leaning up to me. I could see he was attempting to hide his frustration and anger. You see just before the shots, she had been chastising him for being a Nascar fan:
“I keep telling you not to watch that Nascar stuff. You are not a redneck!” Shortly after that we took our shot. Then she started flirting with me. I let her dangle her hook in my face for just long enough before I cut her line:
“Darlin, I must say that I am more than slightly disturbed with your previous comments. While I am from the Deep South and I am a Nascar fan, I don’t appreciate you saying Nascar fans are rednecks.”
I turned to her boyfriend/date and said “so, who’s your driver? I like Dale Jr.” His girlfriend just stood there speechless while we talked Nascar. Then I started talking to her friend. She started paying attention to her boyfriend.
I did a little more dancing and a little more drinking. After a while some friends of the bride from high school asked me to take another tequila shot with them. Well earlier in the reception we had watched the end of the France v. Brazil match. So after the shot, I started doing the soccer chant: Ole Ole Ole! Ole, Ole! Next thing I know the entire bar area is doing the chant. We were loud and obnoxious. How wonderful right? Right after we finished three guys ran up hoping to join in. They asked us to start again. I said, “Men, the moment has passed. I apologize for our finishing long before your tardy arrivals. However let’s get onto better things, such as charming the un-escorted ladies at this wedding.” Yeah, I was really hamming it up. I threw in an overly emphasized Southern accent too, just for the effect. They laughed. Some went to the dance floor. I went to the veranda. It’s always easier to chat away from the music.
Another funny thing: several of the bridesmaids wanted the band to play a few random selections. Unfortunately the bride gave the band a VERY specific list of appropriate songs for her wedding. They were not allowed to deviate from that list. A few of us offered the band $100 to play Dixie. That didn’t fly.
You know what else, I just remembered that the bride didn’t have the garter belt. So I missed another one. Someone else needs to hurry up and get married. I need to get more of those. I think the more you have the less power they have. I’ve got two now.
All in all I had a great time at the wedding and the reception. After the bride and groom left (which I think I missed), I caught a ride back to the hotel with the groom’s parents. I was traveling with Mikey and his two beers, the groom’s cousin Sam and his two beers, and my two pints of Guinness. Unfortunately the groom’s father doesn’t allow people to ride with travelers so I had to chug one pint and leave the other. (FYI: a traveler is a drink that you take with you when you leave a party).
So we headed back to the hotel. Mikey and Sam had brought the leftover beer from the limo ride to the reception. We came back with like 10 beers. I iced down the sink in my bathroom and we put the beers there. We all went down to the bar and hung out. Some of the other wedding guests showed up. Here are pics from there.
Ok this is the bride's sister, the groom's cousin Sam, and Mikey.Here's a pic of Mikey and one of the groom's sisters. There's 4 of them so I can't keep up with their names no matter how hard I try.Here's a pic of Tiff and Sam. (Tiff was in the last story)Here's Mikey and sitting next to him is a badass. Yeah we're drunk.Here's a pic of yours truly with Tiffany. A little less drunk than Friday night. That's for damn sure.Ok, I hope this turns out better on your computer than mine. This monitor sucks so I can't tell how this will turn out. It's a pic of Mikey and Tiffany. I'll probably have to repost an edited copy of the pic.After all that, I realized that I needed to be in better shape for my flight home. I went to bed. Mikey did not. He kept partying like a rockstar. Here is a pic of Mikey at the Philadelphia airport the next afternoon. And this is after two glasses of water, a beer, and a hot dog.
Yeah he looks rough. I flew back to Memphis through Charlotte. This is a pic from the flight back. Remember the Nautical saying from the last post? The is an evening pic of the clouds from my plane:
Red Sky at Night, Sailor's Delight. That's a nice way to end the trip.
I got home about 9, grabbed my bag and headed to the lake. I spent Monday and Tuesday at the lake relaxing. I’d say I had a great weekend. I hope yours was good.


Friday Recap

As I started writing this in the Philly airport, moe.’s “Plane Crash" came on my iPod. How messed up is that? Brings up a flashback to Friday morning. On the first plane from Memphis to Charlotte, I was bored during the preflight instructions. You know the clich├ęs that we don’t need to hear anymore:
Exits are at the rear, middle, and front
Your seat is a floatation device
This is how you use the seat belt (seriously, who the hell does not know how to use a seatbelt?)
So I actually took the “in case of…” pamphlet out and looked through it. Immediately my mind jumped to that scene in Fight Club where Tyler Durden (Brad Pitt) and Edward Norton’s character are seated next to each other on a plane. Tyler is talking about how the people in the brochure look like Hindu cows: blank faces without emotion. If you have no idea what I’m talking about, just watch Fight Club. After replaying this in my mind, my stream of consciousness takes me to the TV show Lost. So there I was sitting on a plane before takeoff Friday morning and all that was going through my mind was plane crashes in pop culture. That’s messed up.
So I had a great trip. It was a great wedding. Here’s what went down. I’m going to apologize now, because this is going to be really long. Go ahead and go to the bathroom or get a drink.
Way before I started thinking about Fight Club or Lost, I was peacefully sleeping in my bed. I was rudely awoken at 3:45 AM by my alarm. That was rough. I don’t even get up that early anymore to go hunting. The last time I saw 3:45 AM I had been out drinking and I was already home. In a haze I found my bathroom and jumped into a cold ass shower to jumpstart my batteries. Yeah, that worked. I raced to the airport and got on my plane to Charlotte. This was the view just before we pulled away from the gate (yeah, after the plane crash thoughts):
That was pretty, but it was an omen of trouble on the horizon. For those of you who haven’t ever heard this, there’s an old nautical saying about the weather:
In other words if the sky is red at sunrise, that means there are clouds and/or a front headed your way (from the west). It means a storm is coming or at least a significant change in the weather. The metaphorical meaning is there’s trouble headed your way). So I’m looking out the window at the beginning of my trip and I see this bad omen. I know at that moment that I was in for a fun weekend.
The flight from Memphis to Charlotte was uneventful. I’ll spare you the boring details. I boarded my second plane in Charlotte and this is what I saw out the window on the wing:
So what did I do? I waited until the drink cart came by. I looked at my watch. It was 10AM local (eastern) time. That meant it was 9AM Memphis time (body clock time). I ordered a bloody mary. I enjoyed my cocktail and finished it just before we descended into Philadelphia, the city of Brotherly Love. Here’s a pic of the skyline and the Eagle’s ridiculously huge stadium:

I also got pics of it driving by later:

Now as I left the plane my partner in crime was waiting there with a big ol’ smile on his face. Mike (I call him Mikey) was my pledge brother back in college. We used to get in a bit of trouble. He was a bartender at a restaurant/bar called Dan Fax and later the Sanctuary. We called it Skanktuary because of the “high” quality of ladies that came there. The owner was a bad businessman and an even bigger drunk (I was told) who was driven home by the wait staff every day around 7PM. So after he would leave, we’d all show up, drink a ton of beer, have small tabs, and leave HUGE cash tips for the bartenders. You do the math. Pay your waiters and bartenders poorly, and they in turn will have to live off the tips they earn.
So when I saw Mikey at the gate, I said “Hey Mikey, let’s go get some beer and rent a car.” I had my first beer of the day around 11:15 eastern. And it was a nice followup to my previous bloody mary. We left the airport and Mikey rented a brand new Chevy Impala. It only had 1200 miles on it. We start driving and Mikey peels off the no smoking sticker on the dashboard. A little while later he lights up a cigarette. Say goodbye to the new car smell. It was still a sweet ride though.
We eventually got to Princeton, New Jersey. Beautiful area. Definitely quaint. We checked into the hotel. I asked the young lady behind the counter what was the best place to get a Philly Cheese steak even though we were in Jersey. She sent us over to Chuck’s. It was a great. I was about to take a bite when I decided to take a picture:
Can you say heartburn? I haven’t eaten so many onions, red peppers, bell peppers and yellow peppers in one weekend EVER. After that we had to go to the local mall for Mikey to try on his tux (he was in the wedding. I wasn’t). We went to a place called Chazmatazz. Yeah, you read that right. I still didn’t see any Jersey hair though. But I did see a Jersey tube top for Paul. He’s got this thing on his blog about June being tube top month. I figured a pic of a Yankee in a tube top on June 31 would be a nice way to end the 2006 TUBE TOP MONTH. So here ya go Paul, a Jersey tube top:
I wasn’t in the wedding so I didn’t have to go to the rehearsal, but I was invited to the rehearsal dinner since I was a pledge brother of the groom AND I had traveled so far. I didn’t give a speech, but I did get plenty of wine and vodka tonics. So I’m glad I didn’t have to speak. After the speeches and dinner were over we hung out at the bar for a few more rounds. We were then invited to meet up with everyone (besides the bride and groom who went to separate homes) at a bar called Meditteranea or something. We were just drunk enough to rename it the Greek Bar. Sounded good. I walked in and ordered a red bull and vodka. They didn’t have Red Bull or any energy drinks. Damn Yankee bars. But I realized that this is a nice, upscale bar AND I remembered that Mikey said he was going to buy my drinks at this bar. I said, “Excuse me bartender, can you make a mojito?” He said yes and we were in business. These weren’t mojitos in little cocktail glasses. We’re talking highball glasses. And he put in the fresh mint and crushed it in the glass. Perfect. Everyone in the wedding group was asking what the hell I was drinking. Everyone wanted a sip, and I was happy to oblige. Apparently they never had mojitos before. Most had said that it was the best cocktail they had had. Then one of the bridesmaids Tiffany said that it looked like a chick drink. I asked if she wanted a taste. She said that unlike me, she didn’t drink chick drinks. That sounded like a challenge to me:
“You know what? Why don’t you stop trying to look like Carmen Electra, and let’s make this interesting. I’m going to drink you under the table, darlin’.”
Yeah, I threw down the gauntlet. I asked what kind of shot she wanted. She wanted whiskey. I don’t drink whiskey (it’s bad news). I suggested a Golden Tornado (half Goldschlagger and half Jagermeister). She said no. We compromised with Lemon Drops. Lots of Lemon Drops. No one knows who won the challenge. I think we both woke up in pain with fuzzy memories. Don’t believe me? I don’t remember taking this pic and it was at the first bar:
Tiffany wasn’t in that pic though. She’s in pics from Saturday night. I hung out with everyone until the bar closed at (I think) 11:45. Now all the bars close at 1AM for some reason there. I thought the South only had blue laws. Well after that bar closed, the parents of the groom and the rest of the older generation went back to the hotel. We, the stupid generation, kept drinking. We found another bar called Mulberry or Woodberry or something. We still don’t know the name of it and this place was 100 feet from our hotel. HA! We walked in to find a college bar full of Princeton kids. I needed a recharge for my batteries so I went to the bar. I ordered a Red Bull and Vodka. They didn’t have it there either! WFT! So I asked the bartender if “this glorified TGIFridays at least has Bud Light?” He got me a beer.
We were standing around the bar talking amongst ourselves when this girl made a comment to me which started trouble:
Her (HUGE NEW JERSEY ACCENT): Oooh my gad, I love your accent.
Me to her: No you don’t. You’re just attracted to me.
Me to her boyfriend: Hey Dude, what’s going on?
Me to her: Hehe, you’re funny.
Me: Hey, are those fries?!?
Her: Yeah, you want some?
Me: Hell yeah (I grabbed a hand full and shoved them in my mouth.)
Me: Oh Damn! These are the best fries I’ve ever had. Hey Mikey! I just made new friends who have food! Hey yall, this is Mikey.
Mikey walks over and grabs a handful of friens too. He shoves them in his mouth and says hi at the same time. We hung out with them until the bar closed or we were done drinking. I’m not sure.
Mikey and I walked out of the bar and started stumbling back to the hotel when I had a wonderful idea: “Hey Mikey, let’s get some food!” We stopped folks on the street and asked what everyone there did for late night grub. Everyone said Hoagie Haven or Hoagie Heaven (still not sure which), but no one could give us directions. We ran into some old professor dude and his old lady. They gave us directions: “Go to that corner, take a right and then take your next left. Go 7 or 8 blocks.” We said thanks and stumbled off. We got lost and ended up running into him again in like 15 minutes. I said, “now where do I go?” He said “do you see that corner 10 feet away?” “Yessir I do.” “Go there and take a left. Go 9 blocks and you’ll see it.” We thanked him, then Mikey said “screw that I’m going to bed.” At this point my stomach had taken all the blood away from my brain or something because I said “Mikey, I’ll go get the hoagies.”
Now I need to explain something here. We are in New Jersey so it isn’t pronounced “ho-gie”. It is pronounced “hooooa-gie” with a lot of o’s. Real funny sounding. So in my drunken stooper, I took that pronunciation and ran with it. I said “HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAGIEEEEEEE!” Yeah it was really obnoxious, I know.
So I hoofed it solo for 9 blocks in dress shoes. A little uncomfortable, but bearable. After what seemed like 300 blocks, I decided it was time to drunk dial. But who should I drunk dial from Yankee land? I decided to call my sister who was stuck in Memphis. I talked to her again the next morning and she said that I was being such a fool that she put me on speaker so her friends could hear me while I was getting the hoagies. Apparently not ten seconds after she answered I walked into Hoagie Haven. These were a few of my comments (I really need to start carrying a tape recorder on nights like these):
“Hello from the Garden State!”
“I totally saw Adriana’s body in the woods by Princeton.” (that was a Sopranos reference)
“I’m getting a HOOOOOOOOOOOAGIEEEEEE!!! I think it’s like a sub, but the Yankee version.”
“Oh my God, you have to help me. I’m in a Blue State.”
“There are four girls staring at me like I’m crazy. Either they think I’m really hot, they want my HOOOOAGIEEEE, or they’ve never seen a drunk Southern man. Hey, yeah yall, which is it?”
“No dude, I don’t know how to order a HOOOOAGIEEEE. Just give me two of whatever everyone else gets. I’m not from around here. Can’t you tell?”
I did manage to get out of there before I sang Dixie though. I walked all the way back to the hotel. I got into the room and saw Mikey on his bed passed out. I said “Hey Mikey! Wake Up! We’ve got HOOOOAGIEEEES!!!” He could barely sit up straight, but he ate that hoagie like a champ. He said he needed water, but he couldn’t even walk to the bathroom. I got him a glass. When he was done with it, he tried to toss it onto the table. Unfortunately his toss was going to be more like a pitcher throwing a fastball. I grabbed that glass, told him I’d handle it, and placed it on the table. He had two more bites and said “no more hoagie.” He handed the hoagie to me, fell back on the bed, and passed out. I laughed my ass off. I took off my clothes and climbed into my bed. I immediately passed out.
About 9 AM Saturday morning, I woke up with the worst hangover I’ve had in a while. Mikey was pretty hungover too. We were pretty bad off, but we weren’t the worst. The groom’s cousin Sam later told us that he woke up naked in his bathtub in a few inches of ice cold water. That’s pretty bad, but the other cousin wins for the worst wake up of the entire Princeton area. Here’s his story as we later pieced it together.
Somehow our entire group at the second bar staggered out in small groups (i.e. Mikey and I went looking for the Great Hoagie Haven). Well the other cousin we’ll call RS. He walked out without anyone else. He tried to find our hotel but never could. Remember our hotel was less than 100 feet from our hotel. I walked out of our hotel and saw the bar at the end of the street. Not that hard to find. Anyway after an undermined amount of time walking around, RS stumbled onto the Princeton campus and found a ditch to sleep in. He woke up the next morning with a HUGE bruise on his forehead, dressed in a suit, and in a ditch at an Ivy League school. How badass is that? I don’t think the majority of the wedding party new about it even after the weekend was over. Pretty cool huh?
Ok, that’s all for now. I’ll recap Saturday and the flight home later.

Have a good one and don’t get none on ya.



How's it going? I know you're ready for a recap of this past weekend. Well wait a little while. I handwrote most of it on the plane. Well actually I hand wrote just over 5 pages on a legal pad and that got me through Friday night. Yeah, Friday night. So give me a while. I have to return phone calls, emails, etc.
So if you're actually waiting by the computer for me on the 4th of July, you need to do one of two things:
1. Walk to your window and jump out. I don't know what'll happen, but you probably need the wake up call.
2. Get a life. Go out chase some strange and have fun.
I'd prefer it if you did chose number 2. But no big deal. Anyways, I'm going to grab some grub and figure out what (if anything) I'm doing tonight.

Have a great 4th of July!
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