The sex, the sax, and the socks.

Posted by todd Tue, 13 Sep 2005 19:28:00 GMT

AKA: Not getting any, got one, and got them all over my floor.

So, Gun Girl is officially gone.. Probably for good. That's life.

I'm officially Bachelor Todd again! This isn't really a good thing for me, nor what I wanted, but at least my stories will get more interesting again. It's all about YOU isn't it! You self serving bastards.

Like any real guy knows, after a breakup there are three things you must immediately do to get back into the swing of things.

1. Get blind drunk. When you can't move the next day due to a crushing hangover, you won't think about her as much.
2. Get pimped out and go hit on women. Even if they shoot you down, it gets you back into the game. This is a work in progress, and given the state of my haircut, I'm confident I'll get shot down.
3. Rent a Saxophone. Ok fine.. #3 isn't standard, but screw you it's my story.

Step 1 was easily accomplished, twice actually. Night 1 with my bartender friends, who fed me entirely too much Sambuca.(note: bartenders will hurt you if they know you live next door and aren't driving anywhere) Night 2 was with my friends that own/work for adult oriented companies (Welcome to San Diego). With those guys, their entire life is basically a big party, which really makes it hard for me to compete. After about 5 rounds of shots, my better judgment got to me and I retreated home, not to leave the couch until Monday.

Step 2, as I said, is a work in progress.


Let me walk you through the thought process that caused Step 3:

- Being single, I don't have much else to do. (10 hours/day on the computer is enough)
- It's healthier than drinking.
- It has lots of buttons on it, making it the closest instrument to a keyboard.. well, other than a keyboard. I type absurdly fast so it's sort of natural.
- At the very least I can squeal back at the bums when they bother me at night.
- A secret: I played Cello for many years growing up, even for the junior philharmonic a bit... until I quit during my death metal days. (Metallica stole that shit from ME!)

After spending an hour or so in the parking garage, I could play notes confidently enough that the cat wouldn't throw himself out the window. Don't get me wrong, I'm TERRIBLE... but at least now it doesn't just screech.

Now all I need is a blues song, and I'll be all set.. Lets try that.

The Bachelor Blues:

My baby done left me on Thursday.
(dun dun dun duh duh!)
She said she just needed to think.
(dun dun dun duh duh!)
My living room floor is all littered with socks,
and the laundry turned all my shirts pink.

The kitchen still smells like a fireplace.
(dun dun dun duh duh!)
I can't even look at the sink.
(dun dun dun duh duh!)
The bums are outside, playing ride sally ride,
so I guess that I'd better go drink.

I've got the.....
no lovin...
burnt oven...
not scrubbin...
bum buggin...
I got the bachelor blues.

Well Tonya served me up a strong one,
(dun dun dun duh duh!)
For good measure she had one herself.
(dun dun dun duh duh!)
Some scary lady, had her good eye on me,
but beside her I looked like an elf.

I've got the blues... I've got the bachelor blues.

-T-Bone

(Ok, so there should probably be at least one more verse, but I'm lazy.. So you make it up)

Posted in Girlfriends | Tags bastards, blues, breakups, drinking, gun girl | 15 comments | no trackbacks

Tequila or just wound you.. That is the question.

Posted by todd Fri, 12 Aug 2005 17:40:00 GMT

Last night I fell through a wormhole or something, and wound up being the designated driver.

Actually, let me rephrase that. Last night I was the designated drunk driver (DDD).

It would have been difficult to convince, say, a police officer of the fact. Nevertheless I was the only person capable of driving anywhere. The night had gone tequila, and I was only drinking beer.

In a mark of wisdom, or at least old age, I saw what was coming so I bowed out of the "one round of shots before we go". "One and out" is a game everyone has played... You know the one where you are having one more drink and then going home like a good citizen, only to find yourself sleeping in a ditch several hours later? Good times... Good times.

One and out of course turned into two. Then we attempted to leave, and I drove the now inebriated co-worker to his house, while Gun girl rolled around in the back of my jeep giggling, you know... two shots of tequila style.

At this point it could have been ok. A woman with two shots in her is a good time waiting to happen, but the gods were not looking out for my interests and we wound up in his backyard with them "sampling" fancy tequila. Sampling needs more description.

An interesting thing happens when you drink with people who are connoisseurs of a certain alcohol... They tend to put the drink in a very small glass (which is secretly a shot glass, but much fancier), and then "sample" several different kinds. Of course, what this really means is that my girlfriend and co-worker each consumed about 5 shots of tequila in short order. Fancy or not, that's trouble.

The girl managed to maintain somewhat, opting to play in the sprinklers in her dress rather than taking it off, not that co-worker would have minded. Eventually a neighbor came out and told us to be quiet, which was my only chance to exit before the sun came up, so we left.

Now, unlike with 2 shots, a woman with more than 5 shots in her isn't really good for much. She's a happy drunk though so no biggie, we'll just go home and go to bed. Right?

2 miles after I get onto the highway (the 5, north).. The girl points out that I'm going south. I'm new in town, and have the navigational abilities of a football, so when she stood by her story amid questions, I decided I must have screwed up, and turned around.

In hindsight, taking directions from a plastered woman was a bad idea, even if she had lived in San Diego her entire life. So in about 2 seconds I realized I had been going the right way in the first place, and eventually made it to her house.

Drunk girl doesn't remember the ride home, or most likely the many fun things she suggested we do when we got home. I'll bet she remembers barfing in her bathroom though.

Wouldn't it be great if they packaged alcohol by how sick you want to be afterwards?

"I'd like a bottle of scotch please, mildly retarded size".

Posted in Girlfriends | Tags alcohol, chelsea, drinking, drunk girls, gun girl, tequila | 10 comments | no trackbacks