When I signed off last time, I mentioned I was headed out to a little get together for Greensboro's favorite bartender, Dave. It was his birthday. Well, by the time I caught up with Dave at about 8, he was hammered. He'd been drinking for about 5 hours already. Anyway, Dave's brother Nate showed up at the Wing Joint just after I did. About a half hour of quick shot taking ensued, Dave got even drunker, & then the 3 of us decided to go to some joint downtown called RumbleForeskins. And that's when things got interesting. Did I mention that Dave was blitzed? Because Dave was fucking blitzed. Shit-faced. He was in a state where he spent countless minutes accusing me of working for the NSA or the CIA (Dave, like a select few others I have come across, has it in his mind that I must do some kind of black-ops analysis work for some branch of the the US Intelligence community). Well, as we were doing yet another shot at RumbleForeskins (this was my 5th or 6th in an hour between 3 bars...), Dave eyes a young lady down around the bar a way, a young lady wearing glasses, a young lady he yells over to, labeling her with this moniker: "Hey, Lens Crafters!" I found this terribly amusing. So I started to scream, "Lens Crafters! I like your frames!!! Can I watch you spit clean your spectacles? Lens Crafters!" Stuff in that vein. Anyway, Lens Crafters and her giant friend went out to smoke, no doubt to get away from my verbal barrage of ocular silliness. When Lens Crafters and her enormous gal pal came back in after about 5 minutes (mind you that Dave, Nate, and I had done yet another shot of SoCo Lime while the pair was outside), it was then that I asked Lens Crafters what her brand of smoke was. And while she wouldn't tell me, I noticed a pack of Newports in her hand. That's when I turned to Dave, Nate, and the bartender and asked this, "Do you know the one thing I'm certain about concerning white chicks in glasses who smoke Newports?" Dave said, "What? What?" I said, very loudly, "White chicks who wear glasses and smoke Newports like to fuck brothers." It was at this point that we were asked to take off from RumbleForeskins, obviously. Dave didn't last much longer once we made it back to the Wing Joint. And I wasn't far behind him. It was an interesting get together. Brief, but interesting. We'll do it again. You gotta figure...
I got a fascinating text from McGrain last week. He noted that he'd been watching Jeopardy! for some reason and that freak Alex Trebek had a whole category about college basketball coaches. 3 ladies happened to be competing that night. Evidently there was a question about where Dean Smith coached. Dead silence from the contestants. There was a question about where John Wooden coached. Again, dead silence. Finally, there was a question about where Coach K made his name. Not dead silence. One chunky, polish looking hag, buzzed in and offered this as an answer, "Treblinka?" Trebek said, "Oh no, I'm sorry. It was Sobibor."
Speaking of Nazis. I was watching footage of the German/Argentina World Cup match (and congrats to the Deutschland by the way). At certain points during the telecast, ESPN showed Germans in some public square back in Berlin cheering on the National Team. And it appeared to me to be very similar to a scene right of a Leni Reifenstahl film glorifying a Hitler Youth meeting...
Speaking of World Cup action, I'm eagerly awaiting enjoying the replay of the Dutch victory over those pesky Uruguayans.
Over the weekend, I finally did see Crazy Heart. And while I thought it was interesting and everything, I didn't think it was super compelling or whatever they were aiming for. I still gotta see Hurt Locker. But, unless that blows me away, I'm gonna assume that Up In The Air was indeed, as I mused back in January, the best film released last year. And no, I'm still never going to see Avatar.
I got a story about a silly party I went to last Thursday. You won't want to miss it. Next time.
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