I started out at one of my favorite bars, north 3rd, shortened to n3rd (I like it for obvious reasons) and had a few Duvels and vodka shots. I alerted the rather cute bar-tender of my birthday wishes (complete and total dissassociation) and she was more than happy to oblige. I talked to some older dude about Thomas Pynchon, different types of probability distributions, frame dragging, and video games (i always seem to meet up with weird people who feel compelled to tell me their fucked-up life stories--this one was less fucked than most). Old-dude bought me another shot, and together we went to the standard tap where the drinking continued...
This is where things start getting blurry: at some point, old-dude took his leave, I was drinking by myself at some hole-in-the-wall bar, I danced (terribly) with a bar-tender to the dulcet tones of the hideously old Mick Jagger (who is probably a flesh-eating ghoul), and i ended up walking out of the bar around 3am with a shot-glass in each hand.
I assume the shot-glasses were for my protection in case someone decided to jump me. I would probably throw them at my attacker as a distraction (cause it sure as hell wouldn't actually hit them) and try running to my apartment. Fortunately, I made it home without incident and woke up about an hour after I was supposed to be at work.
Operation B-Day: Mission Success!
--HK_Newbie
said...
Where is your grind house review? I didn't feel like logging in.
hk_newbie said...
I'm far too lazy to actually pay the money to go to the movie, or use the bandwidth to download it...I will probably go see it and hot fuzz one of these weekends when I have off.