WHOOMP!!! There I Is
Well, I participated in another successfull Rockstar Wednesday last night. I've been trying to cut back on Rockstar Wednesday a little bit since I'm supposed to be saving my cash right now, but the temptations of cheap pitchers and two-for-ones as well as staggering peer pressure from friends caused me to cave in.
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Example of said peer pressure:
K: Want to go get a beer after work?
B: Yes
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Unfortunately, after enjoying a pitcher at one of my favorite low-key places, she got a call from some of her friends and we met up with them at Emerson Bigguns, aka the "beautiful people" bar. I didn't think it would be so busy on a Wednesday night, but every frat boy with concealer on their face and pomade-dried hair was there with their bleached blonde girlfriends. In comparison to everyone there who was done up to the nines, I looked like a soccer hooligan. Sometimes I wish I had the aggressiveness of a soccer hooligan though, as I wanted to headbutt the guy who kept jabbing me in the ass cheek with his pool cue everytime he took a shot. I have to sit on that ass all day as you well know, and I don't need a pool cue induced dimple in it. To top it all off, I ran into a good friend of my ex-girlfriend (the one who took forever to give me back my stuff). She was unusually friendly with me for some reason. When I was out last Friday with some mutual friends, she didn't give me the time of day and stared at me like I was some kind of yet unnamed disease. Instead, last night I was entreated to a spirited account of how she was serving jury duty on the most boring trial ever.
Delightful.
I will never truly understand the opposite sex. Instead, I am destined to repel them with my tendency to sing along to Prince songs poorly and often.
Thought of the day:
My lanyard/name badge at work is kind of like a G-Unit medallion for engineering nerds.
Discus. **edit, I know this is supposed to be spelled discuss, smartasses. Fucking spellcheck doesn't check context. **
**************************************************************************************
Example of said peer pressure:
K: Want to go get a beer after work?
B: Yes
**************************************************************************************
Unfortunately, after enjoying a pitcher at one of my favorite low-key places, she got a call from some of her friends and we met up with them at Emerson Bigguns, aka the "beautiful people" bar. I didn't think it would be so busy on a Wednesday night, but every frat boy with concealer on their face and pomade-dried hair was there with their bleached blonde girlfriends. In comparison to everyone there who was done up to the nines, I looked like a soccer hooligan. Sometimes I wish I had the aggressiveness of a soccer hooligan though, as I wanted to headbutt the guy who kept jabbing me in the ass cheek with his pool cue everytime he took a shot. I have to sit on that ass all day as you well know, and I don't need a pool cue induced dimple in it. To top it all off, I ran into a good friend of my ex-girlfriend (the one who took forever to give me back my stuff). She was unusually friendly with me for some reason. When I was out last Friday with some mutual friends, she didn't give me the time of day and stared at me like I was some kind of yet unnamed disease. Instead, last night I was entreated to a spirited account of how she was serving jury duty on the most boring trial ever.
Delightful.
I will never truly understand the opposite sex. Instead, I am destined to repel them with my tendency to sing along to Prince songs poorly and often.
Thought of the day:
My lanyard/name badge at work is kind of like a G-Unit medallion for engineering nerds.
Discus. **edit, I know this is supposed to be spelled discuss, smartasses. Fucking spellcheck doesn't check context. **
posted by Brent at 9:52 AM
11 Comments:
Discus?
Hammer-throw.
No! Is it too late to change my mind? I want to go with shot-put.
Javelin! I meant javelin.
Man, this is hard.
did you mean discus like in "Brent is competing in the discus throw competition"? Or did you mean to say "discuss" instead? It's okay. You're an engineer, not a speller, right? I married an engineer and am still trying to teach him you spell my name D-U-S-T-I, not B-I-T-C-H.
Dammit, Pops! We were posting at the same time! Poopy head.
Leave it to the freaking wiseacres--I was going to say something about the shotput, but enough about the missing "s" in the post of The Best Wingman in the Midwest. Brent, someday someone will appreciate you singing along to Prince (can't imagine it, but it must be possible).
Put on your raspberry beret and we'll jam until the doves cry (which really shouldn't take too long...).
Second Thought of the Day: Lanyard/name badge at the beautiful people bar will surely repel all female contenders whether they like Prince or not.
Unusually friendly to you....ummm...I know what that means, but I'm not telling.
Pops: You know you can't do the hammer throw
IPM: Well technically I'm not an engineer, I just babysit them. Much like you must do, being married to one and all.
Steph: I take back all the "steph is evil" comments.
Swayer: As long as we can party like it's 1999
MPH: You keep you penis to yourself
SJ: Which is why the namebadge comes off after I leave work.
GD: You suck.
Pops: You know you can't do the hammer throw
IPM: Well technically I'm not an engineer, I just babysit them. Much like you must do, being married to one and all.
Steph: I take back all the "steph is evil" comments.
Swayer: As long as we can party like it's 1999
MPH: You keep you penis to yourself
SJ: Which is why the namebadge comes off after I leave work.
GD: You suck.
Do you sing real high-pitched and wear heels? Cuz I want me some of that.
Hey never underestimate the sex appeal of soccer hooligans. Go for the english footy look, shave your head, knock out a tooth and curse with a east end english accent. Girls will coming running I promise.
Men in cover up, ew.
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