happy hour
cristy wanted to celebrate the end of classes (for her) and i was looking to get liquored up, so yesterday we decided to hit up happy hour at caliente cab company. but when i met her there she suddenly remembered she hated the food there, and instead we wound up going to bbq, which was just fine with me because the prices are cheaper than a bangkok hooker. we had two pitchers of nasty ass bud lite (you know, so she could keep her girlish figure and all) before i had enough of that shit and got a nice lime daquiri. the whole time we talked about her adventures in spain, where she noted she wanted to sample the cuisine of different countries by having sex with men of various ethnic origins (the consensus was sex is pretty much the same around the world), graduation, plans for the summer, and why we had our gigantic argument that led to our not talking to each other for two years. according to her, she (along with several other people) thought that our big fight was because i was all sad or pissed about me liking her ass a great deal and her not reciprocating the feelings...but i had gotten over that freshman year and really argued with her because i was tired of her being such a bitch to me and being drunk and all helped me to finally express that (although definitely not in the nicest way possible). well, glad we got that shit straightened out.
neither one of us had really eaten all day, so we were both pretty tipsy when we left bbq. so far the mission to get super drunk was going super swell like. we caught the train over to brooklyn because i wanted to see cristy's place and she wanted to get some pants on. plus there was more bar hopping fun to be had with the promise of even more cheap drinks. the place was nice but sparse and filled with a lot of weird ass furniture even my ass probably wouldn't have. chelsea was there when we arrived, so she joined in on the drinking adventure. suprisingly she wore jeans, which i have never seen her wear in my four years of knowing her. shocking! yes...anywho, off bar hopping we went, first stopping in this place called moe's (where i had a long island iced tea) then this restaurant/bar called night of the cookers (where i had my second long island iced tea). there was an nyu graduate (class of '97) in there flirting it up with cristy and chelsea, so i took the opporunity to haul my drunk ass to the bathroom in order to pee a ton/throw up.
afterwards everyone was pretty hungry, so we went to the worst chicken place in the universe, kennedy fried chicken. popeyes this is not. it's more like a chinese carry out that nothing but really horribly bad chicken. however, i got chicken nuggets instead of regular real chicken and was happy since they tasted like wendy's chicken nuggets, which everyone knows are the shit. i think we might have scared the poor afghan guy behind the bullet proof glass with our drunken antics, but considering the neighborhood the place was in he was probably used to worse customers than us coming in there.
they tried to convince me to spend the night over there, but i said pish posh to that and somehow made my way home, where i passed out on my bed. and now to do it all again on cinco de mayo.
neither one of us had really eaten all day, so we were both pretty tipsy when we left bbq. so far the mission to get super drunk was going super swell like. we caught the train over to brooklyn because i wanted to see cristy's place and she wanted to get some pants on. plus there was more bar hopping fun to be had with the promise of even more cheap drinks. the place was nice but sparse and filled with a lot of weird ass furniture even my ass probably wouldn't have. chelsea was there when we arrived, so she joined in on the drinking adventure. suprisingly she wore jeans, which i have never seen her wear in my four years of knowing her. shocking! yes...anywho, off bar hopping we went, first stopping in this place called moe's (where i had a long island iced tea) then this restaurant/bar called night of the cookers (where i had my second long island iced tea). there was an nyu graduate (class of '97) in there flirting it up with cristy and chelsea, so i took the opporunity to haul my drunk ass to the bathroom in order to pee a ton/throw up.
afterwards everyone was pretty hungry, so we went to the worst chicken place in the universe, kennedy fried chicken. popeyes this is not. it's more like a chinese carry out that nothing but really horribly bad chicken. however, i got chicken nuggets instead of regular real chicken and was happy since they tasted like wendy's chicken nuggets, which everyone knows are the shit. i think we might have scared the poor afghan guy behind the bullet proof glass with our drunken antics, but considering the neighborhood the place was in he was probably used to worse customers than us coming in there.
they tried to convince me to spend the night over there, but i said pish posh to that and somehow made my way home, where i passed out on my bed. and now to do it all again on cinco de mayo.