Oct 16, 2003 10:05
The Cousin, Stone Cold Jason and I hit Chez Henri last night for a night with the best bartender (left) in Boston, Dylan. I, obviously, got the Cuban. When I finally got a seat at the bar, Dylan tried to hand me a menu, and I told him it wasn't necessary, as I was getting my Cube-on. That's reason #1 why Dylan is the best bartender in Boston: I've only met the guy like 5 times, but he knows my name, and understands what I mean by "Cube-on." Reason #2 came at the end of the night when the Cousin's 3 mixed drinks (she switched after 2 mojitos to something entirely too gay for me to recognize), and Jason's 3 (or 4, I lost track) beers, combined with my Vodka Tonic and Cuban racked up an absolutely ridiculous bartab of...$23. I left him $50 and we took off.
That was the interlude. Now for the meat of things.
I HATE THE FUCKING YANKEES. That game last night was emotionally draining, and I honestly feel like a laundered jockstrap this morning. There's a little hint of my usual funk in me right now, but mostly I'm just a bleached out shell of my former self. And then I had to watch J-Rod's Cubbies get bent over and assfucked, yet again. Steve Bartman is going to have to move to Florida if he expects to live out his natural life. Oh, well. At this point, I really can't lose. Either the Sox win and get to the Series, which would absolutely rule, or the Yankees win, and Fox gets screwed in the ratings game after thinking that they had a super-Bonanza on their hands with a Cubs/Sox Series. Both make me happy, but the Sox winning would make me much happier.
YANKEES SUCK.
YANKEES SUCK.
YANKEES SUCK.
YANKEES SUCK.
YANKEES SUCK.
YANKEES SUCK.
YANKEES SUCK.
YANKEES SUCK.
YANKEES SUCK.
YANKEES SUCK.