The Old Timer In Dundalk Who Gives Poor Advice About Getting Babes Drunk

I heard from a number of folks who were concerned about how down I was yesterday as a result of that whole phone call/incident at that Panning For Platinum Grille place. And I appreciate the concern. But I'm doing OK. I really am.

Heard from old Danny in Atlanta last night. He was out at Royal Soak for the trivia. And yes, both Khaki Pants and Elizabitch were in the bar. And evidently Khaki Pants was flashing her tits all over the place (which I know sounds odd, but if you've ever been in the Royal Soak before, would not faze you for a nanosecond). And old Danny made an interesting observation about Khaki Pants' breasts. One that I feel obligated to share - they are surprisingly nice, if you can get around her beer belly.

I saw where Barack Hussein Obama used that same Orwellian phrase again yesterday about how the stimulating packages deal has "saved or created" 150,000 jobs. Now I realize that I mocked old Barry for using this ridiculous phrase awhile back. But he keeps saying this nonsense and no one seems to care or call him on it. There is absolutely no way to measure how a job has been "saved" by the stimulating packages money (although it may be providing an economic boost to strippers). The fact is that 1.6 million jobs have been cut since old Barry took reign of his kingdom back on that awful Tuesday in January. But he doesn't want to tell anyone that. Instead, he tells us that without him and his stimulating packages windfall, things would be worse - that another 150,000 jobs would be gone (again, even though there is no way to prove this). My prediction is that a few months from next year's elections, old Barry will boast that he's "saved or created" over 3 million jobs. Watch him. He also promised that unemployment would not go above 8% because of his stimulating packages thing. And I don't follow the news too closely, but I did see where the unemployment rate is around 9.4% right now. And it seems to me that 9.4 is greater than 8 (I have mentioned my expertise on 3rd and 4th grade math before on this blog - and hot damn I just proved it again).

I got into a brief discussion with Gramma Dave last night about health insurance and he was going on about some nonsense where he thinks every American should have the same health insurance as members of Congress do. And that is typical socialist rhetorical nonsense. So I said to Gramma Dave "Why should everyone be entitled to good health coverage? Didn't the folks who have good health coverage achieve something in life to get good health coverage? Didn't they earn it through education, hard work, and perseverance? And what kind of message are we sending to folks by giving everyone the same health insurance? Aren't we essentially discouraging them from seeking an education, working hard, and persevering by giving them something for nothing?" Gramma Dave reverted into liberal cliches about how people like me have no compassion for the less, as they so euphemistically put it, "fortunate." And that is a false and silly argument. If I choose I can donate to any number of charities dedicated to helping the less "fortunate." But the government should not take from achievers and give to losers in life. I'm against all forms of a safety net (Social Security, Welfare, Medicaid, Medicare, etc...). At least Gramma Dave admitted that he admires me for my consistency. I don't think I convinced him to change his mind on any of this though. These do-gooder liberals - they never come around to seeing the light. Poor bastards. They mean well. I'll gave them that. But,...

At halftime of the trivia game Gramma Dave asked about Scarlett Johannson movies and I didn't remember as many as I should have. But I overheard another team say "Wasn't she in The Scarlet Letter?"

So Saturday I'm sitting out at the Plantation Takeoff on the deck around 9 and I'm chatting with Dupree and watching some horrible show called Wipeout (at least the sound wasn't on - there were 2 dudes playing Soft Rock hits of the 70s - they are always out there in the summer). And Wipeout is one of the most amusing things I've seen in some time. It features people being humiliated trying to make it through these obstacle courses and getting thrown into scalding hot water and pummeled by fake fists and generally beaten around with metal spikes and ash baseball bats. What I found so amusing about it is that most of the contestants aren't the most fit folks you'll ever lay eyes on. In fact, lots of them were not in the most, shall I say, athletic shape. In other words, there were lots of fatties on there. And when a fatty would be embarrassed by getting hit in the face by a plank and falling into scalding hot water to face certain permanent scarring from the burns, the producers would replay it like 5 times. I wonder how many of these fatties have died trying to make it through these obstacle courses on Wipeout? I'm guessing hundreds. I'm a little surprised there isn't more outrage over this show. I did find it amusing myself though. If big folks want to risk their lives running through these obstacle courses and humiliate themselves in the process, then so be it I guess (to be honest, when the show first came on Saturday night, I mistakenly thought it said Whip It Out as the title - I figured it was a reality show where some dude goes around whipping it out in front of unsuspecting old bags in retirement homes, grocery stores, bingo parlors, etc...actually I'm surprised Fox hasn't thought of this idea for a show yet).

Later I met up with Geilfuss at a place called the Tonka Turd in Dundalk (and by the way - NEVER, EVER trust Geilfuss when he gives you directions somewhere -I drove around for 40 minutes trying to find this joint). And when I walk in, there are like 20 people in the bar and it's Karaoke night. Did I mention this is in Dundalk? And no one could sing worth a damn. It was awesome. There was a table of about 8-10 kids sitting behind us and when they started to take turns singing, they all did songs from Disney movies like Booty Does the Beast or The Little Sperm Aid. And they were having a great time - out in Dundalk with about 10 or so locals around and annoying the locals with Disney songs. Geilfuss and I were laughing pretty hard. There was one local to Geilfuss' right that gave us a tip as to what type of girls to date. He told us to date a girl who drinks water all night because it's cheap and there's more money to spend on yourself. I appreciated this old timer's effort to help us, but I disagreed vehemently with this old timer. I screamed at him "Listen old timer, you're way off on this! Now, I'm a confirmed virgin. I admit that. But the best kind of date is a lightweight who gets drunk quickly and loses all inhibitions after like 3 drinks. It's both inexpensive and highly beneficial sexually. So, take that under consideration!!!" Geilfuss was trying to calm me down. I was a little worked up over this old timer's horrible advice. I admit that. Maybe I overreacted a bit. Geilfuss paid the tab and we took off.

We ended up going to Canton after the incident with the old timer at Tonka Turd. The name of the joint was something Irish - I have no idea. We were there with like 10 girls (girls Geilfuss knows somehow - Geilfuss knows lots of girls - not saying "knows" in the biblical sense by the way). At one point I ran into Tyson and told Geilfuss I'd ran into Tyson and we went back to hang with Tyson and he'd left to go to another bar. And that's when things got a little dicey. What happened was that Geilfuss and I went to another bar - and at this bar things got a little out of control. We never did see Tyson again. Instead we got mixed up with this group of hos. Or I should say, I got mixed up with one ho. I was walking behind Geilfuss on our way to the 2nd floor of this bar and a really drunk girl jumps in front of me and starts dancing with me (I should note that both Geilfuss and I were right at the point of a nice level of intoxication at this point - in other words, we were hammered). So, I danced with this drunk chick for like a minute then wiggled away from her and went upstairs to the 2nd floor of this bar (I think it was called Sloopy's). Geilfuss found some girl he knows who is not a teacher and started talking to her (I've met her before and she's a nice girl, I have no idea why she wants anything to do with Geilfuss - he's as bad as I am). And I'm kind of standing around in a drunken haze - drinking a Budweiser and all around me are drunk sluts going at it in the 2nd floor of this Sloopy's place with random guys - which is just typical, good clean, normal, Saturday night fun. And then I got grabbed from behind - it was the drunk dancing girl again. She evidently wanted to get in on the random public displays of debauchery that were permeating this Sloopy's like something out of the movie Caligula (maybe she felt left out?). And I said, as she was hoisting her cleavage onto my sport coat, "Wait. One minute. I'll be back." Then what I did is I went over to the bartender and ordered 2 Royal Flushes (both for me of course). I drank both shots and turned around. And then this drunk dancing chick threw herself on me. Literally. And I had one thought as things turned ridiculously tawdry right there on the 2nd floor of Sloopy's, that I really made the right decision to get those last 2 shots. And it was the right decision, because things got graphic. And at least I was in a state of blurred drunkenness at the time. Thank God for that. As for Geilfuss, he sent me a text the next day at about 4 in the afternoon asking me if I made it back alright. And I did. But I texted him back and asked the most important question that can be asked after a night like the preceding one - How many miles did you have to walk this morning without any shoes?

I tell you one thing; you tell me another

We walk away, maybe then shake hands