Monday, November 19, 2007

Billiards, hot chicks and a really good hair day.

First, let me preface this post by confessing: I may be just the teensiest bit inebriated as I write this. However, I will endeavor to ensure that my spelling does not suffer unduly. I blame the inebriation on Mr. Mumpsimus, who convinced me to join him in Williamsburg for a reading. We were soon joined by Reviewer Boy, and the three of us settled down to what proved to be an interminable sequence of badly-read prose. Do note that I did not say "bad prose" - some of it was quite good. However, the entire evening reinforced my inherent belief that writers should never be allowed off their leashes in public unless they have taken (and passed!) at least one course in public speaking.

After the reading, Reviewer Boy was off to meet a friend, so I took the opportunity to drag Mr. Mumpsimus off to yet another a bar a couple blocks away. There was much in the way of beer consumed. This led to La Gringa becoming unnaturally chatty with one young and adorable woman at the pool table, a young and adorable woman whose name began with the letter A. I think...

(Mr. Mumpsimus also thought Woman Whose Name Began With the Letter A was adorable, but only because he initially thought that she was a young man. It was an easy mistake to make; either way, there was adorableness involved.)

Onto the two most important observations of the evening:
  1. You know you're having a really good hair day when not one but TWO gorgeous gay men tell you that they are jealous of the mess you have whimsically sculpted into your hair via the liberal application of a $2.26 hair product you picked up on a lark at an Eckerd Pharmacy.
  2. There is absolutely nothing hotter than hot chicks playing pool. Of course, being that I have had a great deal of Bass Ale recently, my opinion may not be the most objective.
Okay, then. Off to bed.

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