I was sitting at Dumb Woody's Tavern last night, right after 8:30, and I had just turned the answer in for the 1st trivia question of the game. As I was sitting back down at the bar, a guy asked if I wanted to play as a team. And this guy had a foreign accent- he was short and swarthy (I've been running into tons of Europeans here in the ATL for some reason), so I was guessing he was Italian or French - maybe neither. I never asked him. Anyway, I said "No thanks man. I'd prefer to just play as a team of one. No offense." And I really didn't mean any at all. And this European guy says "Why you no wanna play the game with me? Two heads be better than one. No?" And I said, "I've won 3 of the past 4 weeks by myself. Why would I wanna change?" And I shook the guy's hand (which I'm not a great fan of touching people) and said "Look, I'm not trying to be a dick or anything. Good luck to you. I hope you beat me. OK?" And after the 2nd question (one a foreigner would have a very difficult time knowing - it had to do with Michael Buffer) he said this "You're horrible person. Typical American selfish attitude." And he really did say exactly that. I remember it clearly. And I was a little taken aback by what he said. But I said "You're right about me being a horrible person -100%, but the stuff about typical selfish American attitude I gotta disagree with. If anything the typical selfish American attitude (what I would call rugged individualism or maybe American exceptionalism) is now atypical. Most of these people in this bar right now are boring, tedious halfwits with nothing remotely interesting going on in their lives. They've got little more to look forward to then who the Falcons will draft this Saturday." And then he kind of mumbled "I no talking to you now." So I turned away and was watching the Cavs/Pistons game (thank you Cavs!!! - they covered by 1 pt). And then this swarthy European ups and leaves, shaking his head as he walked out. He left half a beer and I said to one of the bartenders something like "What was that guy's deal?" And the bartender said "Oh, he's nuts. Piece of shit. He comes in here sometimes and pisses people off." I said "OK, that makes sense." In a way, I wish he'd stayed for the trivia - I would have beaten him badly.
I got a text from Mary earlier about the latest with the book club she's helping run for the 10-12 years old girl set (I blogged about it back in Feb I think). Anyway, the latest undertaking for this book club is some illustrated tome that shows girls how to properly insert, and presumably extract, a tampon. Only Mary was a little worried that the lady running the book club was gonna actually show the proper technique herself. And there was a mix up - because apparently no one will actually be demonstrating how to insert and extract a tampon in front of a group of 10-12 year old girls. And my only question back to Mary when there was some doubt if there would be a live demonstration of tampon insertion followed by tampon extraction was - can you videotape it for me? And if they needed volunteers to do the tampon insertion part, all they'd have to do is wander into Get Bent Lounge any night of the week and there would be half a dozen Dream Teamers or Dream Teamesque skanks in there who would drop their jeans or raise their skirts at the drop of a hat to show anybody of any age just how they insert things in their holes.
Speaking of Get Bent Lounge, I get texts from Pat occasionally about gambling issues. And while Pat is one of my favorite people, he is a terrible texter. It takes me forever to figure out what he intended to type. Here is one I got 12 minutes ago - My luck stayed awax lart ntOwent out for my b dax. And eventually I figured out that he didn't bet the picks I sent out last night because he was celebrating his birthday (hopefully with his wife - she is a nice lady). And it's a shame he didn't because I was 3-0 on the night. All 3 covered within 2 pts of the number. So, whew!!! I was sweating it out at the end of each game. Gambling - it's not for the faint-hearted.
Oh, the big news is that I saw Smug Fatty last night again. Only this time I was on the other side of the bar - the side she and her man sit on. And I was sitting at a high top behind her. And when she got up once, I noticed a wet spot on her jeans. And the wet spot on her jeans was right in the crack of her enormous and really circular and really bulbous ass. And I was tempted to ask Smug Fatty about the origin(s) of this wet spot. But I didn't. After the confrontation with her husband or whatever he is last week, I laid low. He wasn't sitting right next to her last night. And I'm assuming I should get the credit for putting a strain on their ravenous and raging sex life. I bet she puts out often - all this dude would have to do is entice her with food. I bet it works like a charm. Probably a piece of crust or a packet of ketchup would do the trick. I doubt it takes much with Smug Fatty.
I saw something about Paul McCartney selling out a show in 7 seconds. And I saw him in concert in like 2002. And I would go again. He's 66 I think - and will turn 67 in June. But he puts on a helluva show. He really does. When he plays Hello Goodbye or Paperback Writer or Helter Skelter or Get Back or Let Me Roll It or Jet or Got To Get You Into My Life or We Can Work it Out or Lady Madonna or just about anything else, he rocks.
A lady came in the office a little bit ago with a question and she said "We're having some problems with _________." And I said "Aren't these the same problems you've been having for like 3 weeks now?" And she said "Kinda." And I said "Why do you keep asking me the same questions over and over?" And she didn't have a great answer for that. So, I helped her. I was patient. But maybe it's me? Could it be? Why isn't what I'm saying to this lady sinking in? Maybe it's because I have poor communication skills and lack the ability to properly convey the information to her in a lucid and easy to understand manner. But I don't think so. I really don't.
Was your father as bold as the sergeant major
How come he told you that you were hardly old enough yet
And Jet I thought the major was a lady suffragette
I could go on and on and on...
No comments:
Post a Comment