Mr. Cab Driver
You couldn't pay me enough to take that kind of indifferent abuse 12 hours a day. That's why I over-tip and always say "Thank you so much; I really appreciate the ride." Because somebody should...
Courtesy of a little party favour Charming Fellow found in a bush following the Shamrock Festival that provided us with a few hours of entertainment until I left Mr. Champ Bear behind in the ladies bathroom at the Ballroom; here is a pictoral representation of what happens when you take a group of narcissistic, creative, dorky writers on a Wednesday night and add alcoholic beverages:
Here we are, somewhat shy and apprehensive, purchasing drink number one and meekly shaking hands with some strangers.
Here we are, three drinks in, creative juices (and mouths) flowing, apprehension thrown from the window.
And here we are at midnight on a weekday, cursing the day we ever started writing in the first place.
Despite my late entrance and early departure (what happened to Cookie? Did she like, get a boyfriend, or something, and become lame?), I managed to wander the room long enough to offer a few thoughts on the night. After all, it's practically a sin not to post about the blog happy hour the next day, right?
All that, and I was still able to celebrate Pi Day. Suffice it to say, I won't be skipping HH without a very good reason the next time around.
If you ever want to read some absolutely hysterical blogs, here is a sample from 4 of my favourites. These get me laughing virtually every time I read them. They are pure comedy.
1. "We danced for about 3 songs, and then all of a sudden, this big 6'5" ex-college football player looking guy with a dingy white polo shirt on came over and stood right in front of the girl I was dancing with staring into her eyes like he was either trying to hypnotize her or intimidate the Hell out of her. He then asked her to dance, while she was dancing with me. She politely declined, and looked back at me like "Help me!"I leaned over in her ear and said "What the hell is wrong with this guy? He's acting like I'm invisible or something! Talking 'bout 'can I cut in?' Bitch this ain't ballroom dancing. You don't try to cut in on folks in this day and age. That shit stopped being cool after World War II." Listen to Leon's post about some very pressed people.
2. "Sure it’s a pointless holiday were flower shops get to charge $75 to $85 for flower arrangements when you can just go to Arlington Cemetery and get them for free." Virgle Kent's post on Valentine's Day.
3. "Are you curious about the 'Fuck YU' that is spray painted on the wall and the sidewalk? No te preocupes con eso. That is just the way the neighborhood kids welcome you to their neighborhood. Your tax dollars will go towards funding the area schools. Who knows? With your help, in five years, that welcome message may just be spelled correctly." El Guapo's post about his 'barrio.'
4. "One look at the active ingredient in my current deodorant (Old Spice Red Zone) and, sure enough, there it is: Aluminum Zirconium Trichlorohydrex, which, if my high school chemistry still serves me, stands for “Aluminum with Zinc and three Chloriney Hydrogen things...Unfortunately, what the organic deodorant label doesn’t tell you is that while corn starch, candelilla wax, shea butter, and tea tree oil may be great for arts and crafts, they have no ability whatsoever to keep you from smelling like a pile of garbage. When I got home from work yesterday, the first day I tried the organic deodorant, and took off my sweater I almost passed out. Flashing before my eyes was a scene of paramedics finding me in my bathroom with a gaping head wound caused by my head hitting the porcelain sink when I collapsed. They were all wearing surgical masks and trying to get to me, but were routinely turned back by the horrible odor." The Belligerent Intellectual's post about switching to organic.
Best quotes I could find in a quick search. They have much, much better content than the samples I provided. Seriously worth checking out.