Ex And The Magic Rabbit

Last night I went out to a bar to celebrate my boss' last day as my boss. It was pretty sweet. It turns out that my boss is actually quite the player, had so many connections that we got smashed that night and I didn't spend a dime.

While sitting in the patio area my friend Josh was busting out all kinds of magic card tricks. The more I drank the more impressed I was. While watching his mastery of the dark arts I realized I was sitting on a child's drawing. I look behind me and sure enough it's a bunny of some kind. As josh wraps up his last feat of prestidigitation I decide to try my hand at magic. "gentlemen, watch as I pull a rabbit out of my ass" and with rolled up sleeves I reach behind my self and remove the afore mentioned rabbit picture. Yeah... It turns out the more I drink the funnier I think I am.

I got to try out a drink I had never had before, and seeing as though I can't remember the name I might never have it again. They set a glass in front of me, then a shot glass inside the afore mentioned glass. The shot glass is filled with jaegermister then the rest of the glass was filled with red bull. As nasty as these two drinks are apart it tasted like Willy Wonka socked me in the mouth. (I'm not sure it that's a good things or not).

Did you know that $300 bottles of Champaign taste way better than Ralph's brand? I didn't either. We were hanging out with these guys that all owned strip clubs, talk about some smooth mo fo's. I did learn one very valuable lesson, always keep a business card with you. One of these really cool froods was opening up a strip club, according to what he was saying it was going to be one of the biggest to hit the west coast. At that moment my boss interjects: "you're opening another place? You need to hire this kid (he slaps me on the back) he's a wiz at running an office." naturally this guy was impressed with my ringing endorsement, I do my best as a master of all things conversational and talk him into considering me. Unfortunately when he asked for my card I was without and he soon rejoined the party. It figures that a cake walk office job where I could see boobies all day nearly falls into my lap, and I miss it. All I needed were the business cards that I nearly bought, but was too lazy to finish filling out the order form. Luckily he's a regular so I'll be ordering my cards and hitting up my old boss for drink'n nights. "yeah, I'm ready to hit the bar, let me just copy my resume..."

As anyone who knows me knows, I am shitty with directions. Hell, I can get lost going home. Wait, why am I saying can get lost, I did. Here's a bit of advice, if you go out drinking and intend to drive home, don't do it in Newport Beach. First off there is no rhyme nor reason to the signs down there, who the hell designs a 6 way stop? Secondly, cops in Newport have nothing better to do than catch drunks, after all, there's no crime there. Thirdly, pee before you leave the bar when you have to drive drunk around a bunch of suspicious Cops. You could be more obvious when you're drunk driving than rocking back and fourth looking for street signs and trying not to piss yourself.

Needless to say I got home late, really late, and after a drunk shower there's nothing more you want to do than sleep. Yes, a good healthy 3 hours of sleep, then it's off to work! Now on I'm going keep Chaser in the glove box, because if I'm not going keep forgetting about my "no getting drunk on a weeknight" rule I should at least do my best to cushion the after math.

Exile

Original_exile@hotmail.com