this weekend i went to 7 different bars and got kicked out of three. two incidents involved cake. in my face. there were mexican wrestling masks and frisbees. i lost my ATM card. if i piece together the fragments of my memory correctly, we were at a bar and one friend shows up out of nowhere with some birthday cake. my roommate smashes it into my face and deep into my ear and as i wipe my eyes, i see the innocent cake-bringer getting ushered out the door by a team of bouncers. i waved from inside as he tried to argue his case. the bartender then turns to me, "all of you need to clean up that mess and leave right now."
i respond, "i completely 100% agree with you....can i have 5 irish car bombs?" and that's the last time i saw my ATM card.
you know that verizon commercial, the one with the guy on the bus who says "you, turn up the music, and you, shake your junk!" well i also vaguely recall one of my friends who as often as possible leads me to such disaster shouting, "hey you! drink that shot, and you! make out with aurelgrooves." and that's how i ended my saturday nite lip wrestling some very, very young dude. the most eerie feeling was coming back the next day to inquire about my missing card and have all the bartenders and bouncers smile sleezily as they now know me, my name and what they think i'm all about...bad, bad alcohol. great, great, weekend...
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