Always a Henchman, Never a Mastermind

What a wild weekend!

The worst part? Watching the suck-nado that is Flightplan.

Other than that: Let me hit the highlights for you:

It all begins on an idle Thursday. The kind of Thursday that only happens once a week. Wahooweena and Larzzzz dropped by and Wahooweena and I settled in for the usual fun of a Thursday. In this case it meant eating some casserole and watching a documentary about the Branch-Davidians, you know like you do. Mr.Crankypants came home and did some judging, you know, like he do. Anywho, it was an auspicious beginning.

Friday, once I got off work and made some purchases, what wahooweena would call my woo-woo stuff, I raced home to take a nap in time to be up an hilarious for the night to come. I have made no secret that after having turned 30, I have been re-evaluating things. Trying to put life into a perspective that I can handle. Sure Wahooweena and I have unlocked the ultimate meaning of the universe, deciphered its deepest mysteries, but how does that get me through the daily reality? Having no answer to that I have taken advantage of modern technology, branched out, met some new people (some bat-shit crazy, others mildly crazy crazy, mostly just awesome). There has also been a bit of over-indulgence.

So Friday rolls around, and I think: "Self, you should just have a good time dancing, and then home early, no need to be a rock-star"

Ahh the best laid plans of mice, men and Mr.Wednesdays.

I met up with peoples at Gusto's. Being a bit of a creature stuck to my ways many of you may not believe this; I left the 44 and had a good time at another bar. And by good time, I mean I had a fucking blast.

From there it was off to the Balcony. That is when we start down-hill into depravity....

To begin with the 1st song on as I came in was "Party in the U.S.A.". I have no idea the cause but there is something about that particular string of notes but something Pavlovian occurs and everyone hit the dance floor...and then, well the shots...I personally lay the blame at Ioncontrol since, I would never drink so many shots in one evening.

By closing time the count was as follows:

2 tattoos licked
1 man convinced that I would blow him in the bathroom for a drink
1 man lied to about me blowing him in the bathroom for a drink
1 Prince Albert felt up
2 sets of breasts exposed to the masses
$20 found in the ATM for bonus drinking money

But closing time means nothing to one such as myself.

Stumbling I went, I needed a hotdog, and there was a posse with me. As we got our hotdogs, a cry went up from the people "WE MUST HAVE LOS BETOS!" So off we trot to Larzzz's vehicle...

PROBLEM: Not enough room.
SOLUTION: Climb into the back of the truck and rock it out like some sort of non-documented persons coming into the country.

See, at this point, it ought to be noted NO ONE TRIED TO TELL ME IT WAS A BAD IDEA.

So into the back we climb. Did you know that trucks these days have safety features if you are kidnapped? Yeah.

Upon arrival at Los Betos I order, I eat...it is three a.m. and Mr. CrankyPants is being all appropriate boundaries for some reason so we decide it is off to EchoBase. During this time...I am pretty sure I am getting stared down by some 4 year old in a tuxedo.

We swing by my place...SO I CAN GET A BLANKET and then off to Echo Base. By the time I woke up, I was a chilly. The comforter was bunched on my feet, however there was a curtain, so off the curtain came in some drunken ode to Carol Burnette.

Sadly, Ioncontrol had to work so after 5 hours of rest it was time to waken. Friday had bled into Saturday, and I was in PAIN.

You know, at some point, I am going to have to grow up. But until then. . .