Archive for category Random Weirdness
So I took Big Carter out last night for his 30th birthday, and was accompanied by TJ and Douschebag (nope, not his real name — how’d you guess?).
First we went to Doulie’s, a famous grease dive over where midtown intersects the foothills of downtown (aka the trendy ghetto), and stuffed ourselves with burgers and fries and onion rings and fried shrimps and itty bitty little bottles of Coke.
We sort of felt like little puntzes, drinking out of little sissy bottles like that.
Then we went to the Alien Abduction, which is a pretty cool bar at the old train station downtown. They have 200+ different beers to choose from, many of which are on tap, but we only tried 13 of them between us. Or maybe it was only 11… Big Carter kept ordering the same thing, I think.
Yes, he’s sort of a puntz.
TJ ended the night with some queer-as-Seattle apricot ale. I say that not because TJ is a fairy (though he acts that way a good bit of the time) but because Pyramid apparently comes from Washington State.
Yes, he’s also sort of a puntz.
We found a free couch in the “biergarten” area, and most of us snuggled up on it together. Douschebag sat separate, though, which was good. He had a good mackin-on-the-waitress vantage point, and pushed that as far as it would go. At one point I think she asked him if her boobies were too big.
What a puntz.
We sat there for a while, stinking up the place with our magnum-sized cigars, and then the cover band from Waukeegan started up in the other room. It wasn’t good. But then, neither was the conversation it was interrupting.
We were mostly telling Douschebag what a puntz he was.
Then after a spell, a decision was made on high to move the band from the main bar out to the room we were in, and we were asked to vacate the comfy little spot we had stained with beer, cigar spittle and bodily fluids. Very unrighteous. Douschebag complained to the not-owner-but-maybe-manager-or-something-chick, though, and scored us another round on the house.
What a puntz. A helpful one, I reckon, but still a puntz sumprema.
Not-manager came by later, and by then Big Carter was sitting by himself on a couch they had relocated to the bar area for us. The rest of us were a little too self-conscious to lounge out in the open like that, but Carter’s different in the head, and he had no problem. He was all stretched out and chewing on the little smoldering chub of a cigar he had left, and not-manager thought he looked just like Jason Alexander. “He’s adorable,” she proclaimed, and almost sort of squealed a little bit. “Look how cute he is with his little cigar and poofy little hair. Awww…..”
She thought he was just the cutest little puntz she’d ever seen.
Of course, when I told our waitress her boss thought Carter was a cutie, she finished with, “…Like a little baby!”
*used without permission from my good friend Michael.
EDIT: Michael gave me permission after the fact. Not so much fun that way, I think.
My cholesterol-conscious boss, whose wife recently convinced him to go on a completely vegan diet, read somewhere that eating half a raw onion a day could significantly increase HDL levels.
So? Yesterday I caught him nibbling on a big, fat wedge of raw white onion smeared with peanut butter.
I spotted a state House of Representatives license plate the other day. It’s not really all than an uncommon sight, actually, since these folks aren’t rolling in the cash like the fools in the “Big House” in Washington. Most of them have to drive themselves around to their various meets and greets and constituency shake-downs, but fortunately for us that means the buy-offs are relatively cheap.
In 2005, the state reps here each had posted salaries of $28,500… which, while not bad for a part-time gig, isn’t enough to maintain the absolute best scandals. So… it’s also not all that shocking to hear about the extracurricular activities many of our legislature keep themselves busy with.
But the car I saw last week, an old Caddy with the initials “WBB” on its House plate, also had a Pizza Hut delivery sign strapped to its roof. I really wasn’t sure whether to be laughy or pissy about it. Maybe it was a poor wannabe who really likes his pizza when he’s not voting on an anti-pants-down-around-the-knees resolution. Or maybe it was just a case of good old-fashioned abuse of privileges, wherein the state was paying for somebody else to move pies. Either way, I’m really annoyed now that I didn’t have a camera in the car to document the fun. We’ve got an old 1 megapixel CF camera that isn’t being used, and I’m thinking that that should start riding with me everywhere.
Anyway, it’s no Pizzagate, and probably wouldn’t even be blawg’d about anywhere else… it just goes to show that most of the fun stuff happens on the west end of the state, and that it’s just corn-fed mediocrity here in the middle of it. Mostly. We do have some good killings and public nekkedness every once in a while. And next time I see one, I’ll post pictures of it right here.