Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Draft #138
Weekend Review (You know the routine, I tell you what I ate, drank, and didn't sleep with over a three day period, very rousing this blog feature)
Friday: I ordered an XLP from Domino's again because I was really in the mood for pizza, and I actually exhibited a certain level of restraint this time around, at least for me anyway. I ate half of it before I went out to my friend's graduation/going away party, two pieces when I came home that night, and then I ate the last two pieces the following morning. I should really start a healthy living magazine or something, I'm so full of discipline. Just a warning, don't ever bother ordering a pizza from Domino's with the extravaganZZa feast option for toppings. Whether you order three toppings or the nine you get with the extravaganZZa feature, it's still the same amount of toppings (I learned this the hard way). Sure the nine toppings sound like a lot, but not when you can count each green pepper or black olive on the pizza. I felt so used. I really thought I was going to have to be careful not to sprain a wrist from how loaded I thought this pizza was going to be. Just not a good way to start a weekend.
Saturday: I also embarked upon the river boat tour that Mr. Alger was referring to in his blog entry (see link on left side of page) that took us to three of Milwaukee's finest brew pubs/microbreweries- whatever they are referred to, nobody really listens to the guide on those tours. If you're like me, all you hear is the voice in your head repeating a Homer Simpson like phrase over and over again, "Mmmmm....beeeeeer." Once that resounding echo finally dies, most people just stare blankly at the "free beer token" they received upon entry and are feverishly mulling over which flavor of beer they would like to drink once the yuppy tour guide is done blah blah blahhing us to death.
Now where was I? Ah yes, the tour. It was definitely a smashing success. I learned very little, drank a lot, and had the pleasure of sharing the tour experience with a couple of real life lesbians who decided to leave momentarily during the final tour stop on the trip to do, what I imagined to be, something very naughty, "two lesbians alone in the forest" type naughty if you get my drift. These were a very peculiar pair these two. One, a large burly black woman with a butch haircut and the other, an attractive white girl. The latter didn't appear to have even a speck of lesbian on her which made their pairing all the more confusing to me. To give you a better picture, just imagine if Ms. T (aka B.A. Baracus's kid sister) decided to get involved with a more pleasantly filled out version of Avril Lavigne (without the Canadian punk rocker snootiness). I could have been wrong about the lesbian couple, they could have just been normal friends. But then that fist pound thing they did while screaming, "Munch a bunch!" just adds to my confusion.
At the end of the tour, Nate and I headed back to my place where we were picked up and taken to the Brewers game courtesy of the Nygaards who set us up with some fatty tickets (fatty*- a term used to describe how great and/or exceptional our seats were in proximity to the field- alternate spelling- phatty) that landed us in the fourth row. The Brewers managed to win the contest, only adding to the excitement of the day. And as we were leaving the stadium, Jenny punched out a small girl or boy and stole the lunchbox that they had received upon entering the stadium. Having been too old to receive the free promotional item for herself, Jenny had spent most of the game fuming, and then scheming as to how she would procure a lunchbox of her very own. After much deliberation, it turned out that cold-cocking a 6-year-old was the best course of action. Now while I may not be 100% accurate as to "how" she got the lunchbox, she indeed ended up with one and became very excited about her stroke of good fortune. Some say the level of excitement she exhibited may have been a bit much for a woman in her mid-twenties who had just received a free tin box with a handle on it, but the triumphant look on her face as she hoisted the lunchbox over her head, was very entertaining to say the least. Thanks again you guys for the tickets and the ride to.........
Brew City where we convened after the game for some grub. That visit was highlighted by the extremely inebriated fellow in the Jeff Cirillo jersey that fell on the ground near Nate's feet as he was passing by our table. While his friends were pealing him off of the pavement, he tried to let us in on something, but I couldn't tell what his drunk ass was trying to say. It might have been something along the lines of, "Hey look out for that table" or "Hey I'm OK...... you don't know me." But I'm not sure. What I do know is that he was ushered out immediately and kicked to the curb by the bouncer. And thank goodness for that because this fellow was just way too drunk to be in my presence. He looked like he was seconds away from throwing up in a nearby flower pot and honestly, how embarrassing would that have been for everybody involved? Seriously, what kind of a person gets so drunk in public that they are forced to vomit in a holding container designed for plants? Only the most troubled and wreckless of individuals I'm sure. I believe the term is uncivilized scalawag. What's worse, is that I bet this fellow with the Cirillo jersey ended up passing out on a curb while he lay in a drunken stupor of his own filth waiting for his wife or mistress to pick him up and take him home. Oh the tangled webs.
As for the rest of the evening, you'll have to ask Nate how it went. All I can tell you is that one of the most smoking hot ladies in the bar we visited, totally walked up to him, put her arm around him, kissed him on the cheek, and then asked if he was with anybody. Perhaps I'm a man of meager experience, but stuff like that doesn't happy very often, not with a girl of this caliber. So Michelle, if you are reading this, don't let go of that hunk of a man of yours, ever. He is a very hot commodity and it appears that the line for some of that oatmeal and brown sugar is longer than many of us may have estimated. And the only reason I can talk about this is because he turned her down about as fast as it took for Nate and the crew to prop that pig up on that barrel up der in Crivitz.
Sunday: I headed back to West Bend for some R&R. Haus had made some fatty* enchiladas that served as my lunch. I took a nap until supper where I was treated to some spicy andouille sausage stir fry. My visit home that day was very self-serving, it benefited nobody but me, I completely loath myself. Later on, Haus, mom, and I headed out to the Slinger Super Speedway for some Sunday night racing action. My cousin Justin races out there and has been holding his own this summer so we thought it was high time we see what the buzz was all about. We sat in the stands with my uncle Tom and aunt Jean and I was sure glad we did. My uncle knew who almost all the drivers were, what divisions they raced, their shoe size, what they ate for breakfast last Tuesday, and the brand of deodorant their father uses. Ok, maybe I'm exaggerating, but it was nice to get the 411 on who the head honchos were out there to give the race a sense of meaning for someone who's never been to the Slinger Speedway their entire life.
Here's a picture of Justin after his first place finish the previous week in the Thunderstocks division (This division is completely stock full sized cars with only upgrades for safety. There is no model newer than 1992. The makes are Chevy, Ford or Chrysler). This particular evening, Justin was racing in the Slinger Bees division (4 cylinder cars) and he finished in 2nd place. He started out in the 5th position from what I recall and he was all alone in first place by the 4th lap of the 8 lap race. His tire (or something to do with, near, or around the tire/axle- I know jack shit when it comes to cars) was smoking for almost the whole race so he just had to drive conservatively once he got the lead and sure as shit, he got passed on the 2nd last turn of the final lap and still almost recovered. It was a close finish and a really exciting race. Once he pulled ahead on the 4th lap, you just wanted the race to end right there. My stomach was all twisted just hoping he'd hang on till the end. Racing is a lot more fun to watch when you know somebody out there, that's for sure. I was very impressed with his mad driving skillz and I even had the opportunity to watch former classmate, Wayne Ennis win the Spectator Eliminator division with his 2001 Grand Prix.
# posted by hucklebuck @ 7:36 AM 
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Wait, wait, wait. You left out a big chunk of that night my friend. What about talking to the "valley girl" and then seeing JZ, taking the "valley girl" home and getting a text message later from JZ? What about those 2 1/2 hours? Where is that story? Do I need to tell it?
Me? Take an unsuspecting girl back to my apartment? That never happened. You were clearly over served that evening.
There was nothing unsuspecting about her, unintelligent yes, but unsuspecting, no. She knew exactly what she was doing. Fine, I guess I will have to fill in the details of the story for you...
Well now that I know what it is, don't worry I won't let go of the oatmeal and brown sugar....how could you, it's so good!
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# posted by 
: 7:19 AM
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