Where Am I Going, And Why Am I In This Handbasket?

Thursday, February 09, 2006

The Pitfalls of Sobriety

So, I think my newfound sobriety has had a negative affect on Mojo. Maybe he's bored with our new healthy lifestyle. I'm not sure.

But I have recently come accross evidence that he's been frequenting titty bars in Rocky Point. And getting quite trashed.

That's "WOW", to you, gringo.

Hiccup.
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I don't know what to do. I've tried to raise him to be respectful of women and save his money. What kind of person would serve liquor to an underage kitten? Damn mescins. I think I might die of heartbreak.
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Oh. And when I die of this heartbreak, please don't take me to this place:

The last thing my poor loved ones will want is to be surrounded by is a family of foul and boorish morticians during their time of immense grief.


Okay.


I believe this photo establishes My Man as a handsome feller. Yes. There.


Now. Despite this highly relevant fact, and his talent as a bar/restaurant manager & bartender, his near 15 years of experience in the industry, and his skill and personality - his sometimes unfortunate work ethic will cause a dedication and loyalty that is totally undeserved by a dreadful establishment.
And now that Chris has left such a place, I feel that I can safely mock it. There is an enterprise which shall remain unnamed, which will surely go under soon, especially now that Chris has left it (as the only reliable and talented member of the skeletal staff). It has been run by two of the most incompetent and arrogant blowhards I've ever come accross. It would be funny if it hadn't so affected our ability to pay the bills, and allow my feet to fester after months without pedicures. The horror!
One owner deemed himself an artist and exploited the venue as a gallery for his paint-by-number, traced paintings of famous people. At first I couldn't decide if it was kitschy and funky, in that so-bad-it's-good way, but then I decided it was just plain tacky, especially in the super-upscale district this club lies in, surrounded by expensive boutiques and old money, and very little appreciation for garishness. I had to laugh every time I went in to flirt with Chris, because I kept noticing new paintings that were apparently completed overnight. You know, because great art is instantaneous.

Really? The Stoodges and Cosby? How about the Wall O' Elvi?

That's Brad Pitt & Johnny Depp hanging over the Martini Bar. Next to that are paintings of Angelina Jolie & a Wall O' Madonna (and we all know Madge is the Queen of Queens). Now, who am I to call someone Out? Especially when he's married to a bitchy fat lady and has several spoiled brats that he lets crawl all over the barstools. But gimme a break, Brad's SHIRTLESS. Try to visualize a straight man taking the time to paint his nipples ever so gingerly. Yeah, now you get it. There had been a suspicious ratio of Hot Man Paintings here, and it only grew from there.

This is Dad. He was a sailor. I don't even need a joke here.


Posted by Marci Twitches :: 6:28 AM :: 0 Comments:

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