As my weekend was long, and filled with more alcohol than I'm accustomed to drinking, I figured I'd just hit the high points.
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Friday's favorite quote:
"Nice suit." - me to the guy who wore a ribbed douche-shirt instead of a suit (or even a collared shirt and tie) to a FUNERAL. His wife looked pretty pissed at my remark, but he didn't seem to care.
Like this, except two sizes too small, so it looked like he stole it from an eight-year-old's closet.
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Saturday's favorite quote:
"My cesarean scar makes my torso look like The Joker." - a very nice girl I was talking to in a bar Saturday night. I assumed she wasn't talking about the Steve Miller Band song, but after the remark, I didn't offer to confirm that suspicion.
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Sunday's favorite quote:
"We have Pepsi, Dr. Pepper, Mountain Dew, and Sierra Mist." - my waitress at the restaurante autentico after I asked her for a Coke. This would not have seemed strange if my friend had not JUST ordered a Coca Cola from her three seconds prior without incident. After my friend and I exchanged puzzled looks, I ordered an iced tea. We weren't there for the Mexican Coca-Cola anyway (made with real sugar instead of high fructose corn syrup), but instead came in trying to cure our hangovers with menudo.
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Other weekend highlights include:
*A trip to the local Asian market, where I discovered I could finally purchase ingredients that had eluded me at other stores. Including but not limited to: duck heads, beef spleens, and hog uteri. You read that correctly. Uteri. Asian people eat some nasty things ... said the man who ate menudo for Sunday brunch.
*The National Rifle Association called to solicit funds, and backed their pleas with TOTAL LIES. I know this because I was sitting in front of my computer when they called, and I know how to use Google. When I asked Shawn why he called me just to lie, all he could do was stammer and ask for more money.
*I fixed a Hammond 103 that one of my bandmates scored for free (because it didn't work). Twenty minutes of tinkering under the hood, cleaning old vacuum tubes, and hand-massaging the tonewheel back to life, and he had the most rockin garage on the block.
*I became debilitatingly ill Sunday evening...the one night I didn't drink my ass off.
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Here's some tracks:
John Lee Hooker - One Bourbon, One Scotch, One beer.
Todd Snider - Talking Seattle Grunge Rock Blues.
James Blunt - Fall At Your Feet (Crowded House cover).
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And here's me in PROPPER funeral attire...
What's the bare minimum you'd wear to a funeral?
6 comments:
handsome.
I don't go to funerals. Ever.
If I had a dollar for every time I hand-massaged the tonewheel...
You know, I don't think I have ever seen you in a suit. You look awesome. Too bad it was for a funeral.
And also, the csection crack made me piss my pants. WHO SAYS THAT? Oh, OKIES.
(Your posts aren't showing up in my reader...I'm way behind.)
True Story, I once went to a funeral where people showed up in DENIM SHORTS and TEE SHIRTS. Not even NICE teeshirts, just whatever was on top of the laundry pile.
You sure seem to go to a lot of funerals. I'm sorry about that. You look sharp. Lois and I were just saying that you look different in every one of your pictures. Kind of like a chameleon.
You clean up nice.
No feeds in my reader or reads in my feeder. or whatever.
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