Surprised? Nope.

I was on Facebook this morning, and WHAT A SHOCK!  It seems that all of a sudden they are importing my blogs again.  Remember when we said they'd probably do that?

 

I'm sure at some point they will be telling me that they also own the blogs, at which time I'll be busting knee caps and such, but for now, I can relax, safe in the knowledge that all of my blood relatives need look no further than their Home pages to continue their ongoing string of disappointment with my language and general demeanor.

 

Yay.

 

Since we're talkin'....

 

HELL of a night Friday.  And a good thing I stole some swag off of that table at that bar because I think I love that place and was too drunk to remember where the hell it even was without the help of the stolen visual aids and I have no desire to go anywhere else to hear live music in this town ever again.

 

Almost.

 

I mean, we absolutely MUST go to the BoDeans/Zellar thing, and, if you go, look for us--we'll be the ones yelling out Neil Diamond song titles to Mr. Zellar--because we're assholes like that.  Don't worry, though--I probably won't have recovered from my Saturday hangover enough to start drinking again by then so I probably won't smile at you or start a conversation or anything.  Perfectly safe.

 

By the way, I literally just noticed that my company is one of the platinum sponsors for this event...see how much I pay attention?  I hope I don't have to wear any logo gear or anything--mostly because I don't have any.  I have some theories about who might be behind that sponsorship, and because I'm an awful person, I'm going to guess that they had the company put up the 5K so that they wouldn't have to spend $50 on a pair of tickets.  Just a guess, though.  And, nicely done, I might add...

 

And I guess that sort of means that I'm on the clock when I tell you to attend.  So...attend.

 

Of course, the Fine Line, June 11, is the other live music thing happening--Justin Currie will be great, and, I haven't decided what, if any, song titles I will be yelling out for that show.  Neil Diamond songs are not entirely out of the question, however.

 

 

Anyway, back to Friday--that was so much fun!  And once again owing to the fact that my dear friend does not like empty glasses and/or bottles and I don't like them full, I was plenty schnockered.  We started off with luscious bar food at the Shamrock, then somebody's buddy called and said "Whatever you're doing, where-ever you are, you're not where it's at!" so we had to go where it was at, which is where she was at. 

 

And she was so right! 

 

Great room, unbelievable music, relaxed and smiling crowd, no pretentiousness.  Perfect. Place.  I mean, I was sending "I wish you were here!" drunken texts to random people soon after arriving, like all I could think to do to make it any better was to share it with the people I cherish. 

 

So, Friday night was a big, gooby, love-fest.  With shots of Patron.  And some "Touch my butt--don't I have a nice ass?"   And somebody doing push-ups on the floor of the bar, just to prove a point.  And a guy who looked like Elvis Costello that my friend thought would be perfect for me, but it seems he was married, so never mind.  And a security guard getting up to sing a song and knocking us all on our asses.  And I think I must have hugged that guy three times.  Fun.  Happy, Happy Fun.  With a really great horn section.  All nights out should be like that.  I could have done without the entire next day's worth of OMG I Think I Want To Die, but Friday night was excellent.

 

And no, I will not tell you where this place is.  Unless my company decides to become a platinum sponsor, then we'll talk.

 

Anyway....hello again, Facebook!  What a surprise you'd start importing my blogs again, just in time for reports of drunken silliness.  Who could have predicted that?  Oh yeah, I did...