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The Whiskey Bar 2203 Larimer St Denver, CO 80205 Saturdays: 7:00 PM View All Posts |
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Because when that day comes, we'll deserve whatever the Chinese give us. I'm happily learning Mandarin as I type this. ?????
Thanks, Porn for the Blind, for sharing 2G1C with the previously-lucky non-sighted community. That was the one thing blind people had going for them (aside from all their Daredevil-like superpowers) that they never had to experience that hsit (literally).
Yum Brands should change their name to Lower Gastrointestinal Distress Brands.
Way to be, B-B-B-B-Benitez and the Jets. 1st place ain't s-s-s-s-sneeze at.
Later, jerks.
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The Whiskey Bar 2203 Larimer St Denver, CO 80205 Saturdays: 7:00 PM View All Posts |
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I am not an adult. I tried for a while to have responsible "real" jobs. Shit, I had grown up jobs up until I was 31. But I'm not cut out for that kind of thing. I'm not what you would call the "cooks with a pan" type. I don't really go in for all your fancy "bank accounts" or "going to to bed at a decent hour" or "furniture." Nope, I tried responsible adulting and it didn't fit me. I'm pretty okay with that.
Bunch of brand nubians a la Ye Olde Whiskeye Barre and Dildoe Repaire last night. Except without the nubian part. It was pretty white down there. Brand newbiens? Either way, quiz virgins, whose cherries I popped mercilessly. And now I'm thinking about the phrase "popped cherry" and how goddamn vulgar and evocative it is as it relates to the hymen. Ugh, what sadistic fuck thought up that expression?
Did Birkenstock make Heidi Klum grow out her leg hair as a condition of working for them? You know, because hippies.
I will never stop using the "hey Alanis, why the long face?" joke, no matter how stale it is. That joke is as much a part of me as my left foot. I hope I don't lose my left foot.
This blog is of the sufficient length, and so I will end it here.
fr639-0085 br377-658
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The Whiskey Bar 2203 Larimer St Denver, CO 80205 Saturdays: 7:00 PM View All Posts |
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The day in question being when NASCAR formed. Moonshine, shotguns, sister fucking. You know how those rednecks celebrate.
Speaking of celebrating. Denver had the largest 4/20 gathering in the country yesterday. It was just a bunch of nice, peaceful hippies twirling in the park to some reggae jams ... until someone shot up the place. I don't need to point out the irony in that, considering how obvious it is. But, um, yeah. You never see anybody doing anything violent or stupid while drinking, right? This scourge of the devil weed must end!
For the second week in a row, we had ABQ GWD in the house. This time, it was old school QM and corporate suit Kent, AKA The White Shadow. Here is his team comprised mostly of other QM's:
They don't look like they're capable of murder, do they? I assure you, they are.
If you want to know the definition of "shit show," watch a bunch of QM's "sing karaoke" hammered after a quiz. Or maybe it was just me. "Return of the Mack" always sounds like such a good idea until I hear the toneless warbling that passes for my singing voice coming out of the speakers. To say I sound like a cat being tortured would be an insult to tortured cats. Everybody else sounded pretty good. Especially the chick who sang Chris Brown's "Look at Me Now" word-for-word, perfectly. I'm not gonna lie, it was kinda hot.
So yeah, next week we'll be back in the basement where we belong. It's been so long since we'd been upstairs that I almost forgot how goddamn douchey people can be up there sometimes. Oh well, let them wallow in their own bullshit.
OK, that's the whole of it. If you see a hippie today, try not to harsh his mellow, man. Or do. I don't really care either way.
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