Friday Night With BBS

So scattered throughout a lot of my posts are little blurbs and some stories about BBS. For those new to this blog (for shame), BBS stands for Built Like a Brick Shithouse. This girl is honestly one of my closest friends and there has never been a time that we have been together that I have not enjoyed myself immensely. So when she invited me out this past Friday, I figured "what the hell". I mean it was a three day weekend, so I would have extra recovery time and so forth.

Originally BBS was supposed to be working a promo that evening and we were going to hook up afterwards, but for various reasons, her part in the promotion was cancelled, so we were all set to go. We decided to meet close to her house and drive down to a little place called Shooters. By little, I mean an enormous bar with a huge outdoor patio. People dock anything from dinghies to yachts at this place and it is usually pretty packed when the weather is nice.

Now to those of you who have never been blessed with the chance to visit the fair Cleveland, Ohio, you may not be aware that our state flower is the Orange Barrel or that it is almost impossible to take a direct route anywhere in the summertime. The reason for this is that since it can snow nine months out of the year here, the freaks at the Ohio Department of Transportation deem it necessary to close every major highway down to one lane and reroute traffic to Erie, PA before you can actually enter the downtown area. So after turning around approximately 67 times due to closed roads, bridges being up for barges and what may have been a dead man in the road, we finally arrived at the joint just in time for the last half of the Miss Budweiser Cleveland contest.

I don't have any pics of the contest, but there were some hotties in it. I don't even know who won because BBS racked up about 120 asshole points before the contest was even over. Let's elaborate on this, shall we?

BBS Asshole Points Racked Up Before the End of the Contest:

60 points - she knocked over a beer into my purse after an attempt to mimic how one of our old bosses used to act when he was hammered. Job well done, BBS. At least she didn't try to unfasten my bra strap with her teeth for old times sake.

30 points - she bumped into me making me spill my drink on my arm.

30 points - yet again, are we seeing a pattern here folks - she spills even more alcohol on me.

At this point, I am sorely tempted to rescind her drinking privileges for the evening, since she is spilling all my booze, but she has a friend working the bar and we are getting a Level 7 hook up.

About an hour and a half into the night, one of BBS's friends shows up in a cab with her sister. They took a cab from their house which was close to 35 minutes away. Originally BBS asked me if I could give them a ride, but since I had never met these chicks and didn't know if they were completely insane I passed. That was the best decision I made all night. After two drinks, one of the girls tripped offline and stayed there for the rest of the night. She was an unholy mess and while fun for a while, I soon became bored with the antics, so we snuck over to the other side of the bar.

Oh! Oh! I almost forget where BBS got the last 279 of her asshole points of the night. Her BROTHER met us out that evening. Her completely adorable, 20 years old, getting ready to leave for THE OHIO STATE UNIVERSITY brother who is a wee bit shy. He was standing off to the side while the four of us were out dancing to the greatest hits of the hair bands when I got the bright idea to drag his cute little ass out on the dance floor. After getting our boogie on for a few minutes, BBS leans over and says to me "Gosh, I hope my brother doesn't get a boner while he's dancing with you!" EEEWWWWWWWW!!!!!! Vomit erupts from my stomach at the thought while my knees start pointing in different directions. I am sure I looked like Don Knotts in any Scooby Doo cartoon he was ever featured in - face scrunched up, hunched over and eyes bugging out of my head. That was a low blow. I am now devising various ways to get back at her which is difficult because she DOES NOT embarrass easily.

Most annoying question of the night?

Any guy in the place to BBS: "How Tall?"

BBS: "6'1" in my bare feet" By the way, she was wearing 3" heels that night. And a really short dress. So the verbiage in this post stinks because I am a little foggy on some of the details of the evening, so I will let the documented proof speak for itself. M'kay?

The Night Began

OK, so we look fairly normal here, no?

Muthafukin' Rock Stars

BBS and her Hottie Little Bro'

Sexy? Not so much... Trying for pouty, but it ain't working.

Maybe if we tried to POSE, some sexy will come through...

OOPS!!! I guess not. Who in the hell is that dork?

OOOHHH.... I know you.

The look above just makes you want to make out. Doesn't it??

Maybe one little kiss. Just to kick off the evening

Forty Three Drinks Later: A Montage

Wooo Hoooo! This bitch now belongs to me. I have ruined her for all others. BBS gives props to herself for making me her Ho.

Apparently our lady lovin' brought out the crazies and this guy:

Who was so overcome by emotion that he needed to be escorted out by not one:

But ALL of the bouncers on staff. Or so it seemed at the time.

Thanks for saving our virtue fellas. Hee hee. What's a virtue? And why is that guy holding his junk?

End of the Night and a little worse for wear.

Later fuckers, Peace.



Just for Jenny! - The SHOCKER!!!!

I guaranfuckingtee that this post has a cuntful of spelling and grammatical errors, but I'm too tired to worry about them. I know I don't often post pictures and I have finally broken down and given into the demands. It makes me really nervous though, because I hate seeing myself in pictures. I don't mind so much taking them, but seeing my face plastered all over my blog is something else entirely. Oh well, whatevah.