Thursday, April 29, 2010

Day 118 - One, two, Freddy's coming for you. Three, four, better lock your door. Five, six, grab your crucifix....(good times)

Wednesday, April 28th

Went with Wendee to see Nightmare On Elm Street at Oakridge today. Scared the shit out of me. Thanks to Tink aka the morning DJ aka Lori Rosales from California Music Channel for scoring free VIP passes for us.

Tink's the only person (man or woman) who's ever threatened to forcibly French braid my beard with ear hairs and nose hairs thrown in. That's what you get for tossing popcorn at her and landing it in her hair. ;)  Oh and for the record: I keep that stuff neatly trimmed (Queer Eye For the Straight Guy FTW).

Speaking of Tink: Tink! There are many manly men at Jack's who would not have hesitated to give you a ride home after the movie! I'm taking away your date's Man Card™ at my next opportunity. Sometimes it's better to be known then not known, so I say stop trying to find someplace in the Bay Area you haven't been to (and you know you've been everywhere) and instead return to Jack's at your earliest opportunity to have your pick of the litter.

If you (Dear Reader) were at Jack's last night, you'd have seen Rina at the bar, Ras Dank on the door and DJ Benofficial holding court at the turntables.

You'd have seen Nicole and the mighty Sons of Pitches coed softball team nursing their wounds after their (first?) loss of the season.

You'd have seen Hasan and Sandeep, each man a prime example of the manly men that go to Jack's. Which is to say that, to my knowledge (deliberately limited on the subject, I admit) neither of these fellows runs around in tights. Nor tight tights (the really clingy kind where you can guess a man's religion). Nor do they run around the forest looking for fights.

You'd have seen me, sexy, handsome, bearded and round, on my 5th bottle of the trip around the world (that is, around the shelves of the bar, sampling each and every bottle before the year's out). Tonight's bottle was Highland Park Single Malt Scotch Whisky.

I'm sure it was "Whisky" and not "Whiskey" because Highland Park is not an American brand. Little drinking details, Dear Reader, are important.

Thank goodness someone else pointed that Whisky/Whiskey factoid out to me, or I'd have certainly not cottoned on.

If you haven't gone outside to look at the moon lately, then do so now. It was full and bright in the sky last night as it rose up over the trees behind Happi House.

Last but not least you'd have seen Wendee aka Rosicrucian walk in with her trench coat on. Please excuse me while I think back on some inappropriate-in-public-yet-fun trench coat moments.


'Dee had to drop Tink off at home before repairing to Jack's to share a round with me and to harangue me for not writing in the blog lately.

Thank's 'Dee, I needed that.

A glass of scotch. A glass of beer. Simple, sober (though strangely warm in my thighs again) and ready for home.

See you Friday at Jack's!

p.s. My first ever trip to Da Silva's Broncos (1251 Franklin Square, Santa Clara, 408.248.4682) will commence at 9:30pm for the second to last Suicidal Barfly show ever. Preaching To The Animals, The Lytes and Shawn Packer will also be in attendance. No cover charge either!

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