Sunday, November 30, 2008
Oh, how I love thee
Your plumpness entices
So round and sweet
Are you fruit or nut?
Why hide in the shadows?
Spiny on the outside
Hard on the inside
Are we meant to be?
There you are
In my martini
Wrapped in vodka goodness
Your foggy juices
Cloud my glass
And call my name
Like a whisper from a lover
Say you'll stay!
Please don't go
Oh, how I've missed you so
Your sweet, smooth juice
Is so tasty in my vodka
THE DAILY SASS:
I gots nuthin'. What you lookin' at?
Saturday, November 29, 2008
I know you're dying to see all of the answers to the 2nd question, so that you narrow down the options before you guess, so here it is:
My guess is Susan. But it may be a trick question. What's yours?
THE DAILY SASS:
"A dreamcatcher works, if your dream is to be gay." - Demetri Martin
Friday, November 28, 2008
Three of the most important people in my life have recently informed me that I overuse superlatives. I think it was some kind of intervention or something, but I can't be certain of anything anymore.
Apparently, I frequently describe things as "The best I've ever had in my whole life!" or "It's my favorite [blank] ever!" or "Seriously, it was so amazing I almost died!", or "If I could bath in it and lick it off myself, I would!"
I think this denotes a certain level of passion that most strive to achieve. Don't you?? Right? Please say you do...
THE DAILY SASS:
"Oh, yeah, what are you gonna do? Release the dogs? Or the bees? Or the dogs with bees in their mouth and when they bark, they shoot bees at you?" - Homer Simpson
Thursday, November 27, 2008
1. I'm thankful for Banana Republic. You used to be so preppy, but now you actually carry cute stuff that I can blow wads of money on. And you're online store is so easy to use. You really make my life great. And I'm extra thankful for the Cocoon Coat that I recently got to keep me warm this winter [see related Point #10].
2. I'm thankful to Gloria Ferrer for shipping the greatest pieces of chocolate to ever hit my tongue just in time, before I threw myself out of my 12th floor apartment in an attempt to end the nagging withdrawl symptoms. I mean, whoever invented champagne-filled chocolates deserves free botox for life.
3. I'm thankful for living in a building that houses a 24/7 french bistro, a dry cleaner, a jeweler, a Citibank, a shoe repairman, and a deli. It's nice to know that if I ever choose to become one of those weird introvert cat ladies, I would never have to walk more than 50 feet outside my building doors in order to run errands. Oh, and there's the magazine bodega too, where I buy my USWeekly, an essential part of my week.
4. I'm thankful for Starbucks and cashmere. (I know that's two-in-one, but I don't care.)
5. I'm thankful that I'm celebrating Thx Day in the city this year, so there will be no traveling in a car, no traveling via train, and no abstaining from drinking in order to get home in one piece. Woo!
6. I'm thankful for taxicabs. Because I despise the subway. And I'm thankful that taxi drivers' English seems to be getting better. They've finally started understanding me when I tell them to take Park Drive South.
7. I'm thankful for debit cards. I heart you, Mastercard.
8. I'm thankful for my 4" heels, because I pulled my hamstring this weekend, and they're making it more comfortable to walk because my heel doesn't extend all the way to the ground, thus ripping my poor leg into even more pieces. I'm also thankful for them because they make me 5'6" instead of 5'2.5".
9. I'm thankful for my new gloves because they keep my hands from freezing off when I'm carrying my Starbucks iced green tea in this freezing cold weather (because there is nothing refreshing about a hot beverage).
10. I'm thankful that winter jackets cover up my booty while I walk around the city, thus causing less black and hispanic men to catcall at me. They have always loved the junk in my trunk, and I'm overdue for a much-needed break from the "shhhhhake that thing" and "gimme some of that" that I hear relentlessly (ok, maybe not THAT often, but enough to get annoying).
11. Lastly, I'm thankful that I don't have to work tomorrow, so I can nurse the hangover I will surely have from too many whiskey sours and copious amounts of red wine. Maybe I'll throw in a bit of aquavit just for good measure, to settle my stomach after the gigantic meal I plan to eat.
There's more, but I'm also thankful for blog posts that aren't too long, because I get bored so easily.
THE DAILY SASS:
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Cranberry Sauce with Port and Cinnamon, this is my first time making this, but it has like 6 ingredients so it'll be easy-peasy (Mr. T has been over-using that term lately, so it's stuck in my head even though I despise it with a seething passion ). Plus, any time you can add booze to a recipe, you know it'll be good.
Herbed Cream Cheese Cucumber Rounds, my favorite healthy hors d'oeuvres, and if you're completely anal like me you can top each round with exactly 3 granules of sea salt just before serving (don't add them too far ahead of time because the salt makes the cucumber "sweat"). I use lowfat cream cheese to make it even healthier. And no matter what you think about the dash of cayenne, it is absolutely essential! so don't forget it.
Chicks in a Blanket, incredibly tasty, even though it sounds a little tacky. I mean, couldn't they have come up with a better, more gourmet name---like Chicken and Apple Sausage Pastries? But seriously, how awesome does smoked chicken/apple sausage with dijon mustard wrapped in puff pastry sound to you? If I could fill up the bathrub and lay in these, I would.
Second, I'd like to share turkey cartoons that feature blind men with you, because for some reason, they make me chuckle every time. Those goshdarn turkeys just really know how to pull one over on the blind man. Crafty little buggers.
THE DAILY SASS:
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
This is very confusing to me. I think if I saw this sign I would think that I needed to cover up my large, silicone boobies while at the beach so that they don't melt, wear suntan lotion (because damn! I'm looking toasty), discontinue the shaved head thing because it makes me look too "butch", and avoid the stinging phallus tentacles because lord knows where they could end up! Also, I'd try to remember to bring feet and hands next time, as it makes fighting off the giant phallus very difficult. But I wouldn't really need feet because I'm in the water, so it would just make me a little slower at swimming away (you know, less aerodynamic and shit). And I could still use my stump of an arm to bash the giant phallus in the balls before fleeing.
THE DAILY SASS:
"It's not you. It's the economy." - best breakup line ever
Monday, November 24, 2008
He was pretty cute back then:
But I'd totally do him now:
Wait! Is he a minor? Ok, I'd do him if I was single and 17.
I haven't seen the movie yet. Please dish.
Sassy: (in barely a whisper) Something smells.
Mr. T: (angry whisper) No it doesn't. Why do you always do this?
Sassy: Seriously, something smells awful. You don't smell it?
Mr. T: No, and be quiet. People can hear you.
Sassy: So what? If it smells, it smells. Why should I be sensitive to someone who is vulgar enough to offend me with their foulness?
Mr. T: [sigh]
Sassy: Seriously, I will vomit if we don't get away soon.
Mr. T: You always do this. I think something is wrong with your nose.
Sassy: Yeah, I have an oober-senstive olfactory sense!
This always happens. I smell something foul. He doesn't. He gets mad at me for apparently offending the culprit by vocalizing said stench. It's a never-ending battle between us. It happens at least once a week. I am convinced that if I had a superpower, it would be my superior oober-sensitive olfactory sense. I also have 20/15 vision. I just wanted to brag about that. (And I haven't had Lasik surgery).
THE DAILY SASS:
"Bros before hoes, dude. Bros before hoes." - Mr. T
Sunday, November 23, 2008
THE DAILY SASS:
"Goooood, she's such a D.B." - random girl on the street
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Today gmail launched their "themes", soI started scanning the themes and then I saw it. The one theme that took my breath away. The one theme to rule them all! NINJAS!!! And it even includes Chinese stars, samurai swords and numchucks (does anyone know how to spell numchucks?).
Here is my new rockin' ninja-mail -->
And these little suckers change and move around. Sometimes there is a badass chick ninja at the bottom, and sometimes she goes away. Probably to re-do her makeup.
This reminds me of my absolute favorite episode of Southpark, where Cartman and the gang think they are ninjas and he ends up throwing a chinese star into Butter's eye. Here is a clip for your Saturday viewing enjoyment:
THE DAILY SASS:
"Do I wanna go to Merkato 55's Day & Night brunch? I dunno. I sounds like a decadent shit-show." - Future-bro-in-law
Friday, November 21, 2008
I wonder what those 2 people who searched "dirty girl sock" were expecting. Is there such a thing as a sock sex fetish....? Nevermind. I don't want to know. (Crap, now I used the word "sex" in my blog, which is just going to send ever more creepy fiends.)
Please don't give me any sass about how low these visit numbers are. I'm still a nascent little baby blog!
On a Happy Friday note! Here is a psychopathic cat to tell you just how happy he is that it's Friday!
**This video courtesy of my BFF, E.
Oh, and I'm starting something called The Daily Sass. It'll be a random quote, comment or observation every day, mine or someone else's. Today's:
THE DAILY SASS:
I walked into a store at lunch to pick up a pair of gloves so I could carry my iced venti unsweetenced green iced tea to work without getting frostbite. The store didn't have gloves, but I walked out with a coat and a batman t-shirt.
The Google is really sending me some great visitors today:
They've probably already got me blacklisted as an "adult" site.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
The rules of this award state that I must pass it along to 8 other bloggers.
And now I have to include this mushy-gushy crap that came with the award:
"These blogs are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in prizes or self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers! Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award."
With that said, I don't personally know any of these people. I just like reading their crap and stuff.
Aqui es mi ocho:
She Just Walks Around With It
Strange Dark Gypsy Girl
Midwesterner's Guide to Living in New York City
I was headed to the restroom and I almost ran full-on into this very rotund (and hairy) man who's belt was unbuckled, pants were not zipped and he was tucking his shirt into his pants!!! I mean, W.T.F.!!!! Who does that? This is a class A professional building, this is not his home!
Mr. T, that's who.
This shirt is so laden with holes that it's amazing it keeps him warm in our icebox of an apartment. While this picture is taken from a strange angle, he is showing off the gaping elbow hole and stick his entire hand through another.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
However, today I discovered a [drum roll please...] low fat and organic ramen equivalent. I am in heaven! They seriously taste just like ramen noodles, but they have 1 gram of fat and less than 200 calories. The sodium is still pretty high, but you can't have everything, right? The brand is Koyo if you want to look for it at a grocery store near you. I found it at a health food store.
I was disappointed to find out that the little silver packet did not contain pretty carrot stars or broccoli.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Sunday, November 16, 2008
My future-bro-in-law is one of those freaks (luv ya, bro!). Him and his friends combined funds to purchase two of these zombie dolls for a movie that they are "producing". I've seen the trailer, though it's in the early edit stages, and I hope someday to be able to share it with you all, here on STS! Perhaps he'll give me exclusive rights to premier his trailer! That would be rad.
Just in case you don't believe me (faces have been horribly Photoshopped to protect the innocent, the humans that is, not the zombies who they actually look like that):
This one, above, is actually Mr. T doing his best scaredy face. But I accidentally made his head look like it's vanished.
This is by far my worst Photoshop job ever, because it looks like my FBIL's head is missing a chunk. Maybe because it's in one of the zombie's mouths!!!!
Go ahead, buy one, I dare you.
So, despite the fact that my future-bro-in-law is a dead puppy lover, I love him. Because he always gives me good material for my blog.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
We had a fabulous dinner tonight at Dovetail, a new Upper West Side eatery that resembles that of a downtown establishment that touts chef's tastings before and after the meal, including the goodie bag of sweets to take away with you. We had lots of fantastic wine at dinner. Because it was my "engagement dinner", I ordered a ridiculously expensive plate of truffle gnocchi. $84 ridiculous!!! It was totally worth it (even though I didn't pay). I am not kidding when I say that 1) truffles are my favorite thing on the planet, and 2) I have never seen so much shaved truffle on one plate in my life. I mean seriously, have you ever seen so much truffle?
We all got pretty tipsy from the wine and the toasts to my and Mr. T's engagement (this is the first time I've seen my parents since the engagement).
When we got home, Tom picked up Tonks to cuddle her like he usually does, and my stepmom picked up the dog. They decided to put them put them nose to nose while holding them. Bad idea.
Tonks shat on Tom's beautiful new navy blue blazer that I got for his birthday. I'm not kidding. She was so scared that she emitted fluid-like drops of feces from her butt.
I laughed so hard that I almost died.
Best. Friday. Ever.
Friday, November 14, 2008
There was so much hype leading up to the election---the drama, the passion, the campaigns, the grassroots fund raising, the fumbling, the interviews, and the debates. Then it was election eve and we were giddy. We woke up November 4th like two kids on Christmas morning who couldn't wait any longer to open up the presents that were sitting under that tree for days, weeks! leading up this day. We rolled out of bed in our pajamas and trekked over to our local church. We stood in a 3-block line and felt that we were making history. We took pictures of the lines, chatted with our neighbors, and high-fived each other after we cast our ballots. We wore our Obama t-shirts to work, chatted with co-workers, and had CNN up on our browsers all day long. We cooked a big dinner in celebration, taco fiesta with all the trimmings, and sat with white knuckles while we watched state after state close their polls. We popped the champagne after Virginia and cheered from the rooftops along with the rest of New York City. We toasted over and over, and watched as McCain conceded gracefully. We listened as Obama accepted our vote to be president and gave the world hope. Hope for a new America. We watched the world watch us. We cried with Jesse Jackson and felt that we would never forget this moment for the rest of our lives.
And now we have to wait 66 days until we see our new president in office. Yes, there is still coverage to watch - the naming of his cabinet, the press conferences, the debates about what kind of dog he'll get, and the speculation that McCain never wanted to win. But it's not the same. The excitement has diminished. And frankly, I'm impatient. Hence, my P.E.B.
Good thing the holidays are right around the corner...
After writing this entry I did a quick search and found the NYT's Well Blog beat me to the punch, as well as this video:
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Somehow I found myself working in an open-air starbucks-like coffee shop. It seemed to be in the middle of a parking lot. But it wasn't an actual starbucks. I didn't know how to make anything and I had a customer's order to make. The other baristas wouldn't help me. And it wasn't because they were too busy. They were just ignoring me. They were mean. I was struggling to make some sort of coffee-chai type drink and I had mixed the coffee with the chai but didn't know how to heat it up with the steamer. I finally figured it out when I realized that Tonks was in the refridgerator! Someone had accidentally closed her inside. When I opened the fridge door she meowed and she was shivering. I immediately picked her up and started trying to warm her. She was slow and cold. I left the coffee place, saying I was taking a break, and started walking back to what was supposed to be where I lived, but it was more like some sort of B&B. It looked like a page out of Pottery Barn. So I'm walking with Tonks, trying to frantically warm her up. Eventually she starts purring a little and I know she'll probably be okay. I get to the apartment/house? and an ex-boyfriend that I went to the prom with is inside on the Pottery Barn couch. I don't feel surprised to see him, but he looks like something's wrong. I put Tonks down and go to the couch. He tells me he has a giant tumor on his side, and it's clearly protruding a bit under his shirt. For some reason, I'm not indifferent about this, but I'm not wildly upset either. But I want to help him, and I don't know how. I decide that in order to help him I need to go to see my future in-laws, who happen to be in a room nearby (in this B&B). I go and see them. I'm a little fuzzy on what I did there, but eventually I wonder where Tonks is. I go to pick her up before departing from their place and realize that it isn't Tonks, it's another black cat, same size and age, but it's not her. I start freaking out because as I look around me there are dozens of small, black kittens, all of them slightly different but I can tell that none of them are her. They are everywhere, crawling around. My future in-laws tell me to just take one, that it doesn't matter if it's her or not. I am not only appalled that they've suggested this, but don't want to do that. I start to think that Tonks has somehow fled the building so I leave the B&B to go find her, with my future in-laws in tow and ex-boyfriend clutching his side. I realize at this point that I've lost my barista job because I never came back after what was supposed to be a short break. But I don't care. We start traveling down a wide dirt path that looks like it should be in the middle of Africa or something. There are trees and tall grass on both sides. About 15 feet in front of us a crocodile growls and rapidly starts approaching us. I don't know what my future father-in-law or ex-boyfriend do but I turn around and start running like hell, with my future mother-in-law at my side. We see a tree. It's not very tall and it's kind of stubby, but we start to climb it. Suddenly, she transforms into a lizard of some type and starts defending me against the crocodile while we're both at the top of this stubby tree that is actually more like a tall stump. We're both trashing and trying to not get bitten.
Then I woke up, saw my little Tonks safe and sound and gave her big hugs while she tried her hardest to free herself from my grip and chase after Hermione, completely unaware that I'd been fired from a job I sucked at, walked miles and miles, dragged my tumor-laden ex-boyfriend around with me, and been chased up a tree by a crocodile to save her.
I must say that the alarm was set for 6:30 so I could get up and run, and the dream occurred between 6:30 and 8:00 when I guiltlessly went back to sleep, so somehow I think I'm being punished for my slothness.
a) Bareback it, and work out with no underwear on so as not to skank up the pair you need to wear back to office.
b) Take the plunge, wear the underwear during your work out, and then go back to work with foul FOUL! panties on.
c) Sport the undies during the work out, but ditch them when you head back to the office---it might be kinda sexy (or nasty?!) knowing that you have a dirty little secret.
d) Skip the work out, return to work and plan to bring an extra pair tomorrow.
What did I do?
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Here's the deal. There are two rules for receiving this award, and I don't want to break them because who know what sorts of bad karma will result. 1) List 6 things you love. 2) List 6 Bloggers who you pass the Kreativ Blogger Award on to. The question is why 6? I think it is some sort of diabolical clue as to what will happen if you break the rules. So here it goes.
1) My hubs-to-be, Mr. T. He's amazing and the most supportive man anyone could ask for. I'm very excited to be exchanging nuptials with him in a few months. He's also got great lips.
2) My kids/kitties. Hermione and Tonks. YES! We named our cats after Harry Potter characters. And NO! we're not ashamed! Here's a glamour shot of each of my babies. I just wish the little one would get out of her habbit of sucking on any part of exposed flesh she can find. It used to be cute. Now it's just getting old. Last night she even tried sucking on Mr. T's forehead, but he nixed that pretty quickly.
Left: the little one, Tonks, now 12 weeks. Center: the two of them, conspiring against me or playing rock/paper/scissors, I can't be certain which. Bottom: the big one, Hermione, a year and half, and getting fatter by the day.
3) My best friend, E. I've known her for nearly 9 years. We met our first year out of college, when we both worked in public accounting in Boston. It was love at first site (and yes, I know how lame that sounds). We've been pretty much inseparable since. We even moved to NYC together and lived together for 2 years. Then we grew up into big girls and got our own places and then moved in with boyfriends. In fact, we're totally those two friends who have so many inside jokes that we are uber-annoying to hang around, especially if you are Mr. T or KB, E's husband. All we do is make fun of them when they're around and giggle relentlesssly, which is AWESOME for us, but sucks for them.
4) My mom and dad, who divorced when I was 13. Since then, I have developed very strong relationships with both them, which is amazing since I have so much baggage from my childhood---but who doesn't? Both of them support me tremendously, are there for me when I need them most, and are honest with me when they think I'm making a bad decision. My mom thinks this blog is the greatest thing she's ever seen. She's so proud, you'd think I won the Nobel Peace Prize or something. So I'm sure you'll start seeing some comments from her in the near future. PS - that doesn't mean that I censor. She's cool.
5) My fake pearls from Italy. It's a long strand that can either be doubled up or tied in a knot. The cool part is that there is a little 1" silver clock in the place of several pearls that actually works. Well, it used to work. I need to get the battery replaced. But it's a cool concept. I wear these with everything. I even wear them with jeans and sweatshirts at the office, just to spruce the outfit up.
6) The fact that I'm getting married in January and I'm stress-free! I am not doing a big wedding, and refuse to do anything traditional. Mr. T and I are headed down to a remote little resort in Mexico by ourselves, sans family or friends. We're not even doing a big party when we get back---just a nice initimate dinner with the parents. There's no engagement dinner, no rehearsal dinner, no bachelor party (since this is Mr. T's second marriage). We already have the rings. The only thing left to do is get our marriage license in the next few weeks. I however, will have a bachelorette party, though that will also be less traditional with NO strippers (here that ladies?!?!). Just dinner with friends followed by copious amounts of drinking, and perhaps dirty dancing wiwth strangers in some dark unmarked club... oh nevermind. The only crappy part about not doing the big wedding thing??? I don't get hundreds of presents. Boo.
Purple Vintage Space Princess
Wicked Witch of the Web
The Blogess (I'm giving this to her even though she's probably received millions of awards because I love her and want to give her a reason to link to me, or at least add me to her blogroll!... is that a blogger feax pas?? If anything, she deserves this for tripping over a snake and showing her boobies to her neighbor in the process, and yes, that's the second time I've linked to that post).
Thanks again, Lumps!
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Got this courtesy of Silicon Alley Insider.
About 5 minutes into watching the puppy cam, they stopped moving. This is the IM conversation that ensued with my future-bro-in-law:
Sassy 5:06 PM
that is great!
posted it on my blog
did the puppy cam die?
they aren't moving
FBIL 5:11 PM
poor, poor dead puppies
Sassy 5:11 PM
FBIL 5:11 PM
its a trick cam!
Sassy 5:11 PM
it's supposed to stop so they look dead?
FBIL 5:12 PM
they show you old footage of live pups and now they are dead
Sassy 5:12 PM
FBIL 5:12 PM
Sasy 5:12 PM
you are sick
FBIL 5:12 PM
and its ono your blog!
Sassy 5:12 PM
you'd better be joking
FBIL 5:12 PM
Fing with ya
Sassy 5:12 PM
FBIL 5:12 PM
Sassy 5:12 PM
why isn't it working?
FBIL 5:12 PM
haven't checked it recently
Sassy 5:12 PM
maybe too much traffic
FBIL 5:13 PM
Sassy 5:13 PM
I think they were just sleeping
now they're moving again
they are sleeping!!!!!
FBIL 5:13 PM
Note to self: My future-bro-in-law is a dead puppy lover.
Well, here's to the last 20 days of NaBloPoMo!!!!
Monday, November 10, 2008
There were no Biore strips left! There were two empty Biore boxes in the medicine cabinet, with nothing in them! WTF! He swears he didn't use them up, but since neither of the kitties have patches of missing hair, I'm led to believe that he was the culprit.
On a side note, my favorite blog, the Blogess, posted a particularly hysterical entry about a spill she took---and you all know that my favorite thing in the world, besides seeing people fall, is reading about it.
You never feed me.
Perhaps I'll sleep on your face.
That will sure show you.
You must scratch me there!
Yes, above my tail!
Behold, elevator butt.
The rule for today:
Touch my tail, I shred your hand.
New rule tomorrow.
In deep sleep hear sound
cat vomit hairball somewhere
will find in morning.
I leap into the window.
I meant to do that.
Blur of motion, then --
silence, me, a paper bag.
What is so funny?
The mighty hunter
Returns with gifts of plump birds --
your foot just squashed one.
You're always typing.
Well, let's see you ignore my
sitting on your hands.
My small cardboard box.
You cannot see me if I
can just hide my head.
I fought for hours. Come and see!
What's a 'term paper?'
Small brave carnivores
Kill pine cones and mosquitoes,
Fear vacuum cleaner
I want to be close
to you. Can I fit my head
inside your armpit?
Wanna go outside.
Oh, poop! Help! I got outside!
Let me back inside!
Oh no! Big One
has been trapped by newspaper!
Cat to the rescue!
Humans are so strange.
Mine lies still in bed, then screams;
My claws are not that sharp.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Mr. T informs me that there was a Seinfeld episode about exactly this.
L.L. had made one request ahead of time---that I wear the "jesus piece". The jesus piece is a necklace that my grandmother owned and passed down to me. I think it's some sort of Celtic cross, but no one is certain. Anyway, it's pretty badass, and L.L. loves it. E wanted to sport a jesus piece too. Hers isn't as authentic as mine, but it's an actual cross, so it's got more of a reason to be called the jesus piece that mine does.
So with E's husband out of town, it was Mr. T and a harem of chicks with both gay and straight leanings. He was in heaven. Apparently, Mr. T was so elated that he decided to "jagg off" all the way from Redhead, at 13th&1st, where we had dinner, to Rue B, a bar at 11th&B. One couple passed us and whispered "those people are really drunk... especially that guy". The funniest part of that comment is that he wasn't that drunk, that's just how he is all the time. Rue B was unusually crowded, and we weren't sure if we wanted to stay. But Mr. T's friend was bartending and hooked us up with a table. At Rue B Mr. T decided to start doing his best Angus Young dance---not only inside the bar but out in front of the bar (which was all windows), where he was joined by K-Palin and some strange guy with long greasy hair who was apparently a big fan of AC/DC. Mr. T was really going all out because he ended up falling backwards and landing on his ass... hard. No wonder he's sore today and he doesn't remember why.
Mr. T started being a wise-ass (what's new?), so after too many Mango-tinis, E and I started jokingly bitch slapping him. He of course retaliated, which spurred a 3-way bitch slapping contest. This is how we ended up getting kicked out of Rue B. The shame.
It's hard to see because it was dark in Rue B, but here is E and I sporting the infamous jesus pieces.
Here is a shot of Mr. T dancing his best Angus Young outside of Rue B, just before he fell on his ass.