Bad news, Austin. Reeeeal bad news, in fact. This weekend, the ladies will be huddling at my house to bake Christmas cookies. Rather than listen to them titter and whisper about my tushie all afternoon, I'm hitting the streets of the 512 with Danza, a fellow cookie refugee. Why is this bad news? Well, the last time we had a man-on-man night out, things got a little hazy. Hazy as in "whose couch am I sleeping on and where is my wallet?" Hazy as in I probably tried to make out with a police horse. Hazy as in the following picture was taken.
Now I have no memory of that lady, but the dude was a rather ardent supporter of John Brown and he told us many times about how he could get us into any nightspot in the city. You see, he knows the owner. (I hypothesize everything in downtown Austin is owned by one dude, and our compadre from the evening is his best friend.) Trying to be nice guys about it, we went out to a couple of places with him, were promptly ridiculed by the doormen, and then took off running. Any night in which I flee from a deranged 75 year old man counts as a success.
And because nothing beats a dude's night, there's a very real chance you'll never hear from me again. Either that big lady from the picture ate me or I accidentally fell into the dumpster behind a Popeye's and suffocated on biscuits. Either way, know I died with a smile on my face. Well, a smile on my face unless we're running away from that old man.
Posted by Cody at December 1, 2005 6:27 PM