tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57876043765447793272024-03-13T08:11:57.876-07:00MancouverA tale of Men, Drinks, Food and Fun in the lovely city of Vancouver!prettystarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05646389463676250275noreply@blogger.comBlogger22125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787604376544779327.post-63564428993150941322011-06-07T17:30:00.000-07:002011-06-07T17:34:28.390-07:00Mancouver Summer<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">Over the past couple of weeks I’ve gone to a few events and places that can’t be profiled in full because: </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">Some of the memories are non existent or pretty vague</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">Some people might be offended</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">Some of it just isn’t worth mentioning at all</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">However, there were some lessons to be learned, and I hear that summer is upon us, so why not do a combination of both to see where you should and should not go on those hot summer nights! </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 36pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">1.<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">Fundraisers – The next time someone asks you to go to their fundraiser, don’t. Just give them a nice donation for whatever cause they are having said fundraiser for and save yourself the trouble. Now your friends will try and lure you there with the bait of single hot men. Don’t get caught in this trap. Because when you get to the fundraiser you will find that these single men will be replaced with married men and their children. The fundraiser will also be held somewhere that is inconvenient for anybody and everybody to get to. This is also a pain because then you need to plan a ride home, because you <b>will </b>want to be drunk if you do end up going. Really, really drunk. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 36pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">2.<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">Canvas – a club in Gastown. An R&B club if you will. If you’re looking for something particular, say of the African American (Canadian?) variety, you will find it here. They also have a pretty great reggae room on one side as well. Practice your best booty shake and dance the night away. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 36pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">3.<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">The Cactus Club on Burrard – A hot pot of men. In fact, I’ve never seen so many men in a lounge before. I would highly suggest going on a Thursday or Friday around noon and staying all day. You will see a lot of things go down in this time. Some men might even purchase escorts. True story. They also make many delicious cocktails, and have a patio that is worthy of after work people watching galore. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 36pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">4.<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">Any pub, anywhere – It’s the Stanley Cup finals. IF you can get into a place, it will be loaded with men. However, don’t be offended if any of the men would rather look at Burrows or Kesler while the actual game is on. Don’t be stupid. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">It’s also patio season. Find one on a sunny afternoon. There will be men on it. Stay for hours. Repeat the next day if necessary. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 36pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">5.<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">The dog beach – There are a few of them in Vancouver. Pick one. There’s always some dude there with his dude like dog. Be warned that there are also a lot of couples there as well though, holding each other and contemplating life while taking in the view. If you can stomach this, give it a try. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 36pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">6.<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">Hastings</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"> Race Track – Do you like drinking? Do you like drinking in the sun? Do you sometimes enjoy wearing a jaunty hat? Then look no further, because they have all these things and more at the track. Gather a bunch of friends, grab your hats, and book your very own booth for day drinking and sharp dressed men ogling. Apparently it’s a thing to get dressed up and go to the races. I’m not complaining. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 36pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">7.<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">The Waldorf Hotel Tiki Bar – After you’re done taking in the races, why not head down to the Waldorf for even more cocktails? You’re already wearing a jaunty hat, and where better to show it off next than here. The Tiki Bar hasn’t changed much since its hay day and it really doesn’t need too. They have summery cocktails, a playlist to take you back in time and hey, you can dance too!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 36pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">8.<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">Wreck Beach – There’s only one statement for this – get wrecked at Wreck. Just make sure you can get back up those stairs. If old man peen and hairy naked ladies doesn’t float your boat and you can find no humor in it at all, then stick to Kits or English Bay. These beaches have fools and douchebags a plenty if that’s more your thing. Be incognito if you’re going to drink though, the VPD beach patrol is out on the prowl, and they don’t like fun or jokes. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 36pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">9.<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">The PNE – Epic, EPIC people watching in the beer gardens and during the free concerts. You will not be disappointed. Also, who can resist eating every greasy thing in sight (Perogies!!) paying outrageous amounts of money for everything that they sell there (I’m looking at you Market Place Show Room) and waiting in extremely long lines to go on rides that haven’t been safety checked since the fair started I’m sure (Mouse Trap!).... I can’t wait to go! </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 36pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">10.<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">Whistler – With much more reasonable prices than during the winter, it seems like it’s a lot easier to get up here in the summer time. The dirty snowboarders are replaced with dirty BMX rider and the snow is replaced with burning hot sun, but that doesn’t change a thing for the patios. They are just as busy as they are in winter. Get to the Longhorn early to grab prime seating, work on your tan, and admire the cute boys doing flips and shit with their bikes. </span></div>prettystarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05646389463676250275noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787604376544779327.post-58165355922544341672011-05-19T17:07:00.000-07:002011-05-19T17:07:48.749-07:00Cocktails and Dreams<span class="EOP SCX237381240" style="font-family: Calibri,Sans-Serif; font-size: 11pt;"></span><div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX237381240" style="margin-left: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><div class="Paragraph SCX237381240" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-family: 'Segoe UI',Tahoma,Verdana,'Sans-Serif'; font-size: 8pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="EOP SCX237381240" style="font-family: Times New Roman,Serif; font-size: 11pt;"></span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Well it appears that Mancouver has been on a bit of a hiatus, I can only blame Vegas for this and the wintery weather that we’re STILL having. It’s depressing, and therefore doesn’t entice me to want to leave the house. Not one bit. But this past weekend I did. It was time once again. However, I was missing the rest of the crew due to an impromptu trip to Kelowna and a lack of funding, so this would be a solo mission. Though, with a few added guest stars. So let’s get to it bitches!</span><span class="EOP SCX237381240" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"> </span></div></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX237381240" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><div class="Paragraph SCX237381240" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br />
</div></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX237381240" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><div class="Paragraph SCX237381240" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">Since it was raining yet again on Saturday, my sister and I decided that it would be best to spend the afternoon having a Sex in the City marathon, with wine of course. </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">There isn’t any other way to do this is there? </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I’ve see all of the episodes, but it’s A LOT, and no</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">,</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> I don’t care. I will continue to watch them over and over again because if you don’t know already, that’s kind of </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">me and my sister’s </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">thing. When we like something, we commit to liking it 1000%. Therefore that includes the watching and re-watching of shows, movies, </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">videos, </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">etc. </span><span class="EOP SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></div></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX237381240" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><div class="Paragraph SCX237381240" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br />
</div></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX237381240" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><div class="Paragraph SCX237381240" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">There was much debate over whether we should attend a concer</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">t at the Commodore</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> featuring one of our favorite </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">Mancouvers</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> of the Week</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> - </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> Cory </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">Monteith</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">. Yes the band</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> he’s in is crap and they clearly </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">only have a record deal because one of their band members is on a successful TV show, but we thought the people watching would have b</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">een amazing and make for great write up material</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">. </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">Then again,</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> the show</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> would have only been full of freshly minted nineteen year old girls, and that’s never fun is it. As it ended up, we did not attend. </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">Feeling old isn’t usually high on my list of priorities when I go out, but as it was this would happen anyways as the evening progressed. </span><span class="EOP SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></div></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX237381240" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><div class="Paragraph SCX237381240" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br />
</div></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX237381240" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><div class="Paragraph SCX237381240" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">The other option that night was to go out for a birthday party</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">that </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">would include</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">a </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">karaoke </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">session </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">in a private room. I can’t say no to karaoke,</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> especially when you can freely pick your own songs and hog the mike all night</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> (which I did)</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">,</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> so </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">I warmed up my vocal cords and got ready to start my evening. </span><span class="EOP SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></div></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX237381240" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><div class="Paragraph SCX237381240" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">Our guest stars for the evening, <b>A&T</b>, kindly picked me up and we were off to </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">our first destination of the evening, </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">one of the many Kegs in </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">Vancouver</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">; that much like Joey’s, are within a curiously short proximity to each other. The one we would be going to was on </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">Thurlow</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">, and I </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">was </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">quite familiar with this particular</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> Keg and it</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">s awesome lounge. I was once privy to an epic drunken drink spilling that happened there, complete with the obligatory blaming of a wobbly table for committing the said drink spill. I actually wish I could go back in time and see it again, it was that good. </span><span class="EOP SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></div></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX237381240" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><div class="Paragraph SCX237381240" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br />
</div></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX237381240" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><div class="Paragraph SCX237381240" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">This</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> particular</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> Keg is totally for the business man, travelling or local to </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">Vancouver</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">. It’s close to hotels and office buildings alike and </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">really, who doesn’t like the Keg. They make a fine mixed drink, apparently Caesar’s as everyone was drinking one, and hello? Three words. Billy Miner Pie. Sometimes I’ll take that over a steak for dinner. </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">Ice cream for dinner is a delicacy that everyone should enjoy at some point in their life</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">. Me and <b>A</b> were feeling a bit </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">hookerish</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">, so we ordered white wine </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">spritzers</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> – in movies they always tell us this is what hookers drink. As well as champagne cocktails – but when they were brought to us we</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">had to assemble them ourselves. This was a new experience; I’ve never had to make my own drinks at an establishment before. How hard is it to fill a glass with wine, ice and soda water? It would certainly make for a lot less dishes for them </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">to do rather than bringing me a wine glass, a </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">glass of ice and tumbler of soda. Is this a complex drink order? </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">It really shouldn’t be. </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">Color me confused, but it was </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">a </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">delicious and refreshing</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> treat</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> regardless. <b>T</b> opted to go with a </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">Long Island</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">, which we then deemed she had to keep ordering everywhere we went so she could try all the varieties. Not the best plan, </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">in fact a pretty bad one as earlier that day we were discussing the Long Island</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">, and</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> how much liquor</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> went</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> in</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">to</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> them. It’s A LOT. I guess that’s why youths like to order them. </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">Do they come bottled yet? Hmmm. I have so many questions now. </span><span class="EOP SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></div></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX237381240" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><div class="Paragraph SCX237381240" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br />
</div></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX237381240" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><div class="Paragraph SCX237381240" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">Having already eaten before I went out, I did not get to enjoy any of the tasty creations that the Keg has to offer, but a few people got sliders, and we already know how much I like those. They did not look as heavenly as the sliders at Joey’s, but I would have to taste them to give them a fair chance. I </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">will</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> however,</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">give the presentation an 8.5 out 10. Another fellow at our table ordered the lobster tail dinner and it was the biggest meal I have</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> ever</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> seen...in </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">Canada</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">, come on....it was crazy. They seriously gave him ALL the </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">garlic mashed potatoes. They may have been out for the rest of the night after this, maybe even </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">at </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">the rest of the Kegs in </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">Vancouver</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"></span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">It seemed like a lot of dishes came with garlic now that I think about it. Is the Keg telling us they only want couples dining at their restaurants? Interesting.... </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span><span class="EOP SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></div></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX237381240" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><div class="Paragraph SCX237381240" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br />
</div></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX237381240" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><div class="Paragraph SCX237381240" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">As birthday festivities usually go, people were running late and drinks were free flowing, so we were for sure going to be late for our next appointment, which was the very exciting private karaoke room! Because gathering drunk people is always an issue, a few of us made our way over </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">to </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">Fantacity</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> which is also on </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">Thurlow</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">, just on the other side</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> next to the McDonalds. What isn’t usually next a McDonalds? </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">When giving directions to people for things doesn’t it seem like you always throw a “Then turn left at the McDonalds “in there? It does. </span><span class="EOP SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></div></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX237381240" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><div class="Paragraph SCX237381240" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">Once across the road you will then t</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">ravel down some stairs and </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">destination </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">Fantacity</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> will be on the right hand side. It looks TOTALLY sketchy, and </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">is most likely</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> an underground drug running/prostitute business with a karaoke cover, but who cares. You get your own room! And they serve amazing fruity cocktails served in excellent hurricane glasses! And yes we tried the </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">Long Island</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">, don’t worry. And the drinks are strong. Really strong. As they should be, you must be drunk in order to sing your best. </span><span class="EOP SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></div></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX237381240" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><div class="Paragraph SCX237381240" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br />
</div></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX237381240" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><div class="Paragraph SCX237381240" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">Since we were the first ones to arrive, we </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">had the luxury of choosing the first song.</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">...and most of the songs after that too....oops.</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> What did we go with? Hotel Room Service by </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">Pitbull</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> of course. What else? It was awful and amazing all at the same time. </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">There aren’t a lot of words to that song other than counting, yet we still managed to fuck it up. After that we went with the old standards such as Don’t Stop Believing, Living on a Prayer, and some rousing renditions of Bad Romance and </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">New York</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">, </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">New York</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">. I would like to give a shout out to </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt; font-weight: bold;">T</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> for her marvelous tambourine work (yes they supply you with a tambourine. So many shades of awesome)</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">. Also t</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">o </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt; font-weight: bold;">A</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> for her hidden rap talent that was brought to fruition via Drake’s Best I Ever Had</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">. I did not know she was a closet rapper; perhaps we should sign her up for a rap battle one of these days? And last but not least, to our friend </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt; font-weight: bold;">MC</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> for throwing down the Lady Gaga gauntlet. She was </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">NOT</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> fucking around. Gaga karaoke was serious business for her. </span><span class="EOP SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></div></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX237381240" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><div class="Paragraph SCX237381240" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">I would highly suggest hitting up </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">Fa</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">ntacity</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> whenever you get the chance. </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">You will not be sorry. </span><span class="EOP SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></div></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX237381240" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><div class="Paragraph SCX237381240" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br />
</div></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">Sadly</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> the room was soon ripped from our</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> grasps;</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> the good times don’</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">t last forever at </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">Fantacity</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">. </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">The</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> rooms are rented by the</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> hour,</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> a lot</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> like a cheap a hotel room you would have an affair with your married boss, best</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> friends husband, priest...</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">what have you. They might even let you do that at </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">Fantacity</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">,</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> I don’t</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> know</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> for sure.</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> I didn’t ask if that was included in the rates. </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">Moving on, after a few cab rides around the city, a failed Roxy attempt and more cab rides, </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt; font-weight: bold;">T</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> and I made the executive decision to head to another favorite spot of ours – Brandi’s. </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">Now I know you’re asking yourself “Wait, what? Strippers?”</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">Yes. </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">Lot</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">’s </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">of </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">strippers. See the enticement of Brandi’s is that girls don’t have to pay cover, they play good music, </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">and</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> you get </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">a show</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">. What more could you ask for? Well I guess karaoke</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">, if they had that, it would make it the best place ever maybe.</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> I would be there all the time. </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">Actually </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">I would probably never leave. I’d just move into Brandi’s. It’s almost </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">in </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">the penthouse</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> of that building that it’s in</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">,</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> and </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">that’s super classy. Or maybe it </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">IS</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> the penthouse. </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">Or </span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;">I’m always hammered when I</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> go there, and</span><span class="TextRun SCX237381240" style="font-size: 11pt;"> I just can’t be sure. </span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX186422308" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><div class="Paragraph SCX186422308" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; height: auto; margin-right: 23px; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; width: auto;"><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;">So </span><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;">If you’re wondering where the majority of men go in </span><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;">Vancouver</span><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;"> (we were) </span><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;">well look no further. They are at Brandi’s. All ages too, it was really spread out. Like </span><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;">the</span><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;"> dancers legs...WHAATTT. Yes I did. I went there. </span><span class="EOP SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></div></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX186422308" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><div class="Paragraph SCX186422308" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;">Anyways, there were</span><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;"> a lot of dudes</span><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;"> there</span><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;">, even a lot of girls, but this doesn't rea</span><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;">lly seem like the venue to pick people up I would think.</span><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;">Girls are mainly there for </span><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;">stagettes</span><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;">, because going to male strippers is scary and gross, and g</span><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;">uys are there for </span><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;">lap dances</span><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;">, and not ones that are performed by people that they don’t have to pay. Paying is better. On second thought, maybe the meshing of these two groups of people is the way to pick up someone up. We better go back for a second look. Plus</span><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;"> I did see a series of random make outs happening when the lights went up. I knew they were random because we shut that place down. I saw these random hookups blossom. It helped that some guy that was there by himself - not creepy, that's perfectly normal - kept paying for our drinks while we sat at the bar, only to have him disappear every time we turned around to thank him. Don’t worry, the bartender poured them and handed them to us directly. No </span><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;">roofies</span><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;"> were involved for once. So thanks phantom drink buyer, you were strange and mysterious and we appreciated all the drinks! </span><span class="EOP SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></div></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX186422308" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><div class="Paragraph SCX186422308" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br />
</div></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX186422308" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><div class="Paragraph SCX186422308" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;">Besides that there were a series of other events, such as the almost teenagers that invited us to their “VIP” booth, who at first told us they were 26, but when we carded them found out it was more like 21. And to top it off one of them looked like Spencer Pratt and <b>A’s</b> high school boyfriend all wrapped up into one 21 year old package. They didn’t stay for long, but long enough for Spencer to ask me if I’ve ever had sex with a 21 year old and then gave me a 2 minute countdown or his offer would close. </span><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;">Yes that old chestnut, a timed sex offer from a man child. It was really tough to turn it down...right. </span><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;">So yah, there was that. </span><span class="EOP SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></div><div class="Paragraph SCX186422308" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br />
</div></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX186422308" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><div class="Paragraph SCX186422308" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="UnsupportedObjectText Selected SCX186422308" title="Word Web App can't display this item. To view and edit this object, open this document in Microsoft Word."></span><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;">Then came the bartender. </span><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;">Because we like to sit up at the bar and make friends with bartenders, we decided that this particular bar keep had pretty amazing hair and we needed to keep looking at it. And maybe his butt too. I loath writing that last part, because it makes me sounds like a very old person or, perhaps a bit like someone who is really into cats and Cathy comics. But it was true. When he walked away, his situation looked pretty good and it was worth mentioning. So shut up. We </span><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;">learned that his name was </span><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;">Warren</span><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;"> and by the end of the night, after being urged by <b>T</b> and my liquid vodka courage, I asked him if I could touch his hair. Yes friends, my hair addiction finally crossed the fine line of oddly cute, to almost disturbing. I didn’t care though. Nothing </span><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;">was going to stop me. The idea had been planted in my head and I was going to make this dream a reality. </span><span class="EOP SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></div></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX186422308" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><div class="Paragraph SCX186422308" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br />
</div></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX186422308" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><div class="Paragraph SCX186422308" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;">To be honest I don’t really remember how I presented it to him, but it was probably along the lines of “Hey, do you mind if I touch your hair” and then I most likely didn’t wait for an okay either, I just di</span><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;">d it. I got right in there too, r</span><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;">an my fingers through it and everything. </span><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;">I’m assuming he was into it though, because after listening to my cheerleader <b>T </b>again, I came up with this – “So do you date any of these lovely ladies that work here?” He says “Umm. No. It was cool a year ago, but not so much anymore”. </span><span class="EOP SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></div></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX186422308" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><div class="Paragraph SCX186422308" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;">I then end the conversation and he is like “Well??? Why?” And I pull out some sweet moves with “Maybe you might like to get a drink sometime that’s not here”. He agrees, a number exchange happens, and since the lights have been on for a pretty long time at this point, it was time to escort ourselves home. </span><span class="EOP SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></div></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX186422308" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><div class="Paragraph SCX186422308" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br />
</div></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX186422308" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><div class="Paragraph SCX186422308" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;">Now there are a lot of things that I need, and a bartender’s phone number that works at a strip club probably isn’t one of them, but what the hell. Who knows if I’ll ever hear from him, it is highly unlikely, but I will totally see him again because let’s not kid ourselves, that won’t be my last trip to Brandi’s. A lesson learned on this night? Sometimes people DO want their hair touched. </span><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;">Fact.</span><span class="EOP SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></div></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX186422308" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><div class="Paragraph SCX186422308" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br />
</div></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX186422308" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><div class="Paragraph SCX186422308" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;">Many thanks to </span><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;">Mancouver’s</span><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;"> special guest stars, hopefully we’ll see you again soon! And most especially to <b>T </b>for promoting all the bad ideas, that were actually turned out to be really good ones. And thank god I found your phone in that cab.</span><span class="EOP SCX186422308" style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></div></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX186422308" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><div class="Paragraph SCX186422308" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 8pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br />
</div></div><div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX186422308" style="margin-left: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><div class="Paragraph SCX186422308" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-family: 'Segoe UI',Tahoma,Verdana,'Sans-Serif'; font-size: 8pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="TextRun SCX186422308" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Peace out! </span><span class="EOP SCX186422308" style="font-family: Calibri,Sans-Serif; font-size: 11pt;"><br />
</span></div></div>prettystarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05646389463676250275noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787604376544779327.post-28249607411587582472011-05-04T20:18:00.000-07:002011-05-05T08:30:49.856-07:00Vegas Baby. Vegas<smallfrac m:val="off"><dispdef><lmargin m:val="0"><rmargin m:val="0"><defjc m:val="centerGroup"><wrapindent m:val="1440"><intlim m:val="subSup"><narylim m:val="undOvr"></narylim></intlim></wrapindent></defjc></rmargin></lmargin></dispdef></smallfrac><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">So Mancouver went to Vegas this past weekend, and though the saying usually goes “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas”, this time around it’s not going to. I’m just gonna let it all hang out. It was harder on some of us than others, but we all somehow made it out in one piece. Now since a journey to Vegas is just way too hard to document day by day, I will try to condense it, and report on events that took place to the best of my knowledge and abilities. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">The journey started on Friday afternoon for part of Mancouver, LM was already ahead of us, apparently very eager to get a head start on the downward spiral that is Vegas. She was going down there to join in on a bachelorette party, which right off the bat you know will be a bit of a disaster. If there was an award show category for best dramatic performance by a group or ensemble, then every bachelorette party that travels down to Vegas together yearly should be nominated. It cannot be helped. Large gaggles of girls that travel together will not always get along. This is just the way the cookie crumbles. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">LM did report back that the morning flight (out of Bellingham, via Allegiant Air) was full of couples and old people. I understand the old people, they love getting up at pre dawn to start their day and they love to be gambling and buffeting, but WHY all the couples? Is Vegas the right place for you to have a romantic vacation? Is it? Surrounded by drunk fools, people cheating on their soon to be husbands and wives, the future sluts of the world, douchebags and their douchebag entourages...sigh, I can’t WAIT to go back....but for reals. Is this what you want? No one else does that’s for sure. Go hold your hands in Mexico or some shit. That’s were couples go. I know this because I was there not too long ago. And I’ve been to Vegas as a couple as well. Under the category of things that are not fun, this is in there. It’s not. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">So after that, LM went back to drinking her weight in vodka red bulls while patiently waiting for the rest of the girls she was meeting, and obviously the rest of the Mancouver crew as well. We went back to drinking on the plane, and then on to drinking in our room while getting ready to meet up with LM and the girls. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">Why is drinking in your room while getting ready so much fun? There’s always a dance party that’s why. I had made a playlist (obvs) with Taio Cruz’s “Dynamite” on it more than once, because this song follows us around, and it’s highly addictive apparently. It’s not even that good, but we can’t stop. Just throw your hands up in the air sometime okay? However the one place this song does not follow us to is Vegas. We did not hear it once. I don’t even know how that is possible, but it was. Instead we were stalked by Enrique’s “Baby I like it”. Not as awesome. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">Anyways, so we got all gussied up and made our way over to the Mirage where the girls were staying and would quickly be introduced to the horror that was happening over there. Or should I say WHORE-ER. While we were waiting in the lobby for LM, the outfit shenanigans that were happening around us were something to behold. I’m fairly certain that every outfit in the universe that didn’t fit was on some girl who walked past us. Why? Why exactly? I can’t fathom stuffing myself into a sausage casing of a dress that’s actually a shirt, and then strutting around <b><i>anywhere</i></b> and thinking I look hot. If you have muffin top happening all over your body, guess what? It’s not sexy. Why can’t these girls just buy clothes that fit? If you want to rock a shirt as a dress go for it, all the power to you, BUT please, pretty please, buy it in a size that was made for your body. Not the size you think your body should be or the size that it used to be. It’s fine. Move on. Everyone that has to look at you and your shapes spilling out of your dress will thank you for it. That’s all. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">It was hard to make ourselves leave this hot mess, but we managed to say goodbye to the stumbling disasters and made our way over to the Luxor to attend LAX. There were probably more shapes happening there too, but as I would soon learn it would be impossible to top the Mirage. Everyone was rolling on a lot of vodka by this point, but LM by far put on the best show. There was a lot of dancing around in a small circle and talking using only finger signals. At one point we found her in the booth in front of ours, just kind of curled up in the corner of it doing a little leg work, and though she was talking to the guys whose booth it was, I couldn’t begin to fathom what they were discussing. Maybe they were versed in finger signal speak as well? She may not remember, but I’m pretty sure she was having fun. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">The music there was excellent, full of the R&B jams of my youth when I thought I was a bit of a gangsta. Well a lot of a gangsta, but don’t we all at some point in our lives? While I was busting a move, a guy from the booth next to us sidled up and introduced himself, wanting to make us aware that they too were a stag party and then suggested that we join forces. However, the girls were too busy taking their millionth group photo, the bachelor party seemed like the most sullen group of guys I’ve ever seen on a stag, plus there was also some deranged looking woman that was following around the guy that introduced himself, so this marrying of parties was not going to happen. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">Not willing to give up on this union easily, buddy comes back over with a shot in his hand and says to me “Hey do you want some Patron?” My answer to this question is always yes, but perhaps this time it shouldn’t have been because here’s where we should have initiated “Roofie Watch: Vegas Edition”. Now by this time in the night I’ve had like 1000 drinks and I will be the first one to say that my judgment wasn’t at full strength. I take the shot from him and say to him “I hope there’s no roofies in here” and he just kind of laughs and walks back over to his booth, where he then proceeds to creepily watch me take it from a distance. Who does that? And when I say that, I mean who:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">A) takes the shot and happily does it knowing there’s a 50/50 chance of there being a roofie in it. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">And</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">B) walks away and watches in the shadows like a potential serial rapist. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">Well apparently me and this guy do. Luckily for me it wasn’t roofied, or it may be that I have an incredibly high tolerance for them, but at any rate this was now our cue to leave. If you’re wondering where LM has been, well she was still over at the other booth, but she was a little more mobile now. Upon closer inspection it appeared that this booth was filled with a bunch of Eastern European guys, and they were waving us over to stay and hang out with them. We decided that eating was a probably a better idea instead because I didn’t really know the outcome of the potential roofie yet, and the idea of waking up and probably have been sold into a prostitution ring didn’t sound like it would be a lot of fun. And unlike the movies I don’t know any savvy people that would be able figure out how to rescue my ass. Not everyone has a Liam Neeson that they can rely on. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">So if you are drunk in Vegas and haven’t eaten since breakfast...hmm I guess this is pretty much directed at everyone there then... you need to go and have the $7.77 special at Mr.Lucky’s in the Hard Rock. Its steak, prawns, garlic mashed potatoes and a salad and yes, you want it in your mouth. It’s not on the menu, you just have to know about it, so we have just given you the knowledge, and our blessing to go and have it. It’s not really what your stomach needs at 2 or 3 in the morning, but savor it because it’s probably going to be the last real meal you’re going to have for the rest of the trip. That’s also why it’s ideal to have it on your first night there. We did it, and it was just as fabulous as it has been every other time. This time around I didn’t almost die while eating a piece of steak, which has happened before and trust me, it’s scary. No one is on life saving duty when they’re hammered, so I’m lucky to have lived through it. Note to people who are going to have this meal – don’t cut your steak only in half and then stuff it like that in your throat. It won’t go in. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">Also, though unrelated, when leaving the Luxor do try and find the exit that leads you out to the street and NOT to the Excalibur. It takes half a day to get out if you go through that stupid castle. But if you’re very lucky, someone may give you a Crispy Cream donut if you take that route. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">The next day everything started out really promising - we felt good, there were no hangovers for some reason; the sun was shining, what could go wrong? The Bare pool party at the Mirage. That’s what. I wasn’t totally feeling a pool party, but I was willing to go and have a look since they were offering free drinks until 1pm. We made our way over to the Mirage once again (stupid idea staying at Treasure Island next door when we spent ALL our time at the Mirage) and went in search of the pool. We find it, and it’s down the same walkway as the entrance to the Secret Garden where people take their kids to look at white tigers and the like. Should a place where debauchery and naked boobs come together to party be on this same path? It shouldn’t. Good thing there’s a couple of really cool door guys guarding the entrance to Bare to stop any kids from wandering in and being severely traumatized. And by really cool, I actually mean really fucking douchey. These clowns thought that they were <i>pretty</i> awesome. And I guess they are, since they control the mysterious clipboard with the names of the people who are on the list get in to these “exclusive” parties after all....yes. So they have their moment of glory where they pretend they can’t find the proper name for us on the list, and I have my own where I think to myself that I don’t have to work a door on a Saturday at a pool party in Vegas. So we’re all winners here. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">After another maze of walkways, we finally get in and spot the girls on one of the “exclusive” daybeds. It was free apparently, but everything comes with some sort of hidden fee in Vegas doesn’t it. The fee at Bare is that there were A LOT of rules. However, none of those rules touched on anything like if you have fugly boobs; please put them away because you’re scaring my eyes. There were no rules for that. There should be. And for the free drinks, they should also have more options than highballs. That’s a mean choice when it’s 11 in the morning. Vodka and water does not feel good at that time of the day, in the hot sun, on a stomach filled with no food. The story of how the girl’s night will end will be a testament to this topic. We’ll get back to that though. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">We opted for some over priced fruity blended drinks because we hadn’t eaten yet either, and because I already knew the consequences of drinking vodka waters in the morning. See sometimes I do know better! LM on the other hand was fully immersed in her vodka drinks, as were the rest of the girls in the party, and they were ready to dedicate themselves to this pool party for the rest of the day. There were whispering of plans to have a nice dinner later that evening and both my sister and I looked at each other and said “None of these girls are making it to dinner”. Guess what? They didn’t. I wasn’t really feeling in a bathing suit kind of way, nor did I feel like sitting in the sun all day and marinating in vodka, so we left the girls after about an hour. Don’t get me wrong, we enjoyed the people watching aside from a few awful boobs, and I imagine it’s a thousand times busier and more epic somewhere like Wet Republic, but all in all it wasn’t bad. I would probably go again, but I don’t know about LM... </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">So what happened to LM you ask? Wait. Just you wait. We’re almost there. My sister and I continued on our own journey of drinking and gambling all day, and planned to go and watch the hockey game at Blondie’s in the Planet Hollywood mall. The logic behind this was where else would dudes be in Vegas during the lull before the nightclub frenzy happens? Well, probably in a lounge or bar watching a sport of some sort. Or sleeping. Or still at one of the many pool parties. Some other guys would most likely still be at the strippers or just getting there for a full evening, but I already know those guys. They’re all dentists. So we arrived at Blondie’s only to be told the sad news that they were featuring the UFC fight that night....ummm no thanks. Much like the dentists, I see enough of guys who exclusively watch UFC at home as well, so we’ll find somewhere else to go. Luckily there was another bar when you first walk into the mall from the casino that was showing the game, and was featuring buckets of beer and shots of Patron. Roofie optional this time. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">While sitting this bar we got to see a lot of sights, and it became clear to us that all of the hot guys in Vegas? Yah they were staying at Planet Ho. With this new knowledge acquired I messaged LM to advise her to get over to meet us ASAP. There was a guy wearing his navy whites! We just overheard someone say it was fleet week, so there could be more of them! But nothing from LM. No response. Perplexing I thought to myself. If I know anything, it’s that LM always responds to her messages, it’s her pet peeve when people don’t respond to her immediately, she WILL Ping you, so I know how this works. My second message was “Are you alive?” Remembering how sideways the pool party was going, I was afraid that she wasn’t. And still, no response. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">Hockey game complete, we decided that we needed some sort of nourishment, so we cruised over to New York, New York for some delicious pizza. It wasn’t a cruise at all though. In high heels it’s almost like walking from Vegas to actual New York. And now that I think back, why did we leave Planet Ho, when ALL the hot guys were there? That was dumb. Maybe I was given a roofie after all. In the stupid decisions variety. </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">Oh well, since I don’t have a time machine this isn’t really an issue anymore I guess. And the pizza was really good. And while enjoying our tasty pizza we noticed a large group of guys that were all dressed in suits. Believe me when I say that this got my attention. Again cursing LM for not being around, we FINALLY hear back from her. The messages are not in any sort of English language, but there were a lot of capitals and lower case letters jumbled together. After we deciphered them it was discovered that she had fallen asleep because she was so fucked up from the pool party. That’s a shocker right? Then came some barfing, a failed attempt to get ready, and then back to sleep again. And that’s what became of LM and a lot of the other girls night. I got the more elaborate story the next day at the pool, and it looks like we needed “Roofie Watch” out on patrol again, because that is what she swears happened. An older couple cruising you in a hot tub and buying you champagne all afternoon? That sounds like a roofie waiting to happen. It’s roofielicious. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">No men in suits for LM, or for me either. We guessed that they were perhaps a soccer team or Russian for some reason. They weren’t either, but they were British. If they were a British soccer team that would have indeed been a Vegas jackpot. I did end up telling one of the guys that he should tell people that they ARE a soccer team. Why not right? If you should lie about anything anywhere, it’s Vegas. They were also there on a stag and were on their way over to LAX. I was like “Oh we went there last night”....WTF is wrong with me? I was really off my game this weekend because the answer should have been “Oh we’re heading there right now as well”. Stupid. Don’t worry; I’m slapping myself as I type this. Apparently I only want to go there to hang out with rapists who give you shots of Patron potentially laced with roofies. Not a bunch of British guys in suits. Gross. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">Sigh. So instead I bothered some poor man that was trying to enjoy his Lord of the Rings slot machine by asking him a million questions about his love for the movie and shouting out things at his machine. Most likely stuff along the lines of “You shall not pass!!” He loved it I’m sure. We then headed back over to the Mirage (Seriously, WHY didn’t we get a room there) and upon entering we were dazzled once again, by even more ridiculous outfits than the night before. All of them so small. So very, very small. Let’s talk about this again for a moment, because I really want to get the point across. Girls, you know that saying friends don’t let friends drink and drive? Well friends shouldn’t let friends wear outfits that do not fit. Next time one of your girlfriends is getting dressed for the night and it turns out she looks like a double stuffed burrito from Taco Bell, tell her. If she doesn’t believe you, show her a picture of said burrito and say that’s you. You look exactly like that. Now go put on something that fits. The world will thank you for it. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">Mean? Maybe. But someone has to stop this madness. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">Snapping out of our small outfit trance, we made a stop in at the Beatles Revolution lounge for a drink and dance and finally finished off our night. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">The next day I received messages from LM in this order. The first one was “OMG I’m dying, I feel terrible”. A little while later I received “OMG we just met the hottest guy at breakfast”. I was like how did this turn around so quickly?! And who meets hot men at buffets? I didn’t think they went there. Hot guy was going to be hanging out at the normal pool with them, so I ventured over there to check out this additional breakfast item that the buffet was offering. Turns out he <i>was</i> really hot, AND a Marine (thank god someone picked one up!) and way too many things went down on this day after this, so I’m just going speed this up with some one the highlights...</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">Buffet Boy and his friend that he was with provided hours of entertainment for us, we talked about many inappropriate things by the pool, which isn’t the first time I’ve been involved in something like this, the high point being when we decided that someone should go up to a guy in the pool and either pee near him or on him….Why? Why would we suggest this? What is wrong with us? Wait, don’t answer that... We thought it was pretty hysterical. Just imagining what a guy would do if some random chick really did pee on him in the pool was so amazing, and to take it the extra step B.B. convinced his buddy that someone <i>actually</i> did it, and made it so believable that his friend was like wow these girls really are fucking disgusting. Haha. Classic. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">And don’t worry; someone did put the Marine to good use, complete with an almost near death shower sex experience. What if that’s how you died in Vegas? Or what if you killed someone that way in Vegas? How did Robert die? Oh he cracked his skull open on the bathroom floor. Don’t worry, he was having sex. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">The moral of this story is bathroom sex is dangerous. Safety first kids.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">The girls had to go to Thunder from Down Under in the evening, so we went our separate ways and that was the last I would see of LM, until yesterday when she filled me in on what I missed. There was a lot, and it was all very dramatic. But as previously mentioned, that’s what happens with too many chicks and it is always amplified of course due to the fact that no one has slept or eaten in three days. I was then thankful that we went about our own business that evening, which was spent cruising through the Wynn and the Palazzo and I can guarantee that all the rich people were staying there. If that’s what you’re looking for get down there immediately, guys will probably ask you to go to XS with them as you’re walking through the mall. We said no, as one failed roofie attempt was all that we needed this weekend. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">And so winds down the story. As with all trips to Vegas, some of us survived, some of us barely, but we all eventually made it home. LM left before us and had a bit of a delay at the airport due to apparently having explosive residue on her hands...?....and we had the unfortunate luck of being on the plane with some of the girls from the stagette that were STILL partying. No. On the plane ride home you do not party. You be quiet. No one…NO ONE wants to hear your voice. Not even you. The only saving grace is that we got to hear the story of one of the girls being left at Bare without any of her shit, including a room key. Her friends thought she had left, so they took everything, including her bikini top that she WASN’T wearing. Amazing. The only thing that would have made the story better is if she had peed on someone in the pool...</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">Thanks Vegas. We’ll see you next time. I will be bringing my A game, I think I left some it at home this time around! </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">Good times had by all, thanks ladies XOXO</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</style> <![endif]--> <div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Since Mancouver has an impending trip to Vegas this weekend that is going to take a lot of out of our minds, bodies and souls, we decided that this past Easter weekend needed to be one of rest. Actually we should probably even go to church to pre warn whomever is listening about the kind of shit that is bound to go down. A blanket apology that will cover everything. And I’m not of any religion, so you know it’s going to be bad when...</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Anyways, I thought I would take this time out to re-cap what we’ve learned so far. Kind of like a quarterly statement if you will. So friends join me in a trip down memory lane. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Top 10 things Mancouver has learned so far</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">10. The Roxy is awesome. Well we already knew this going into the Mancouver adventure, but it’s now truly been confirmed. However, if you plan to go there make sure to protect yourself. You will probably be molested/raped/manhandled by a cougar, douchebag, weirdo, celebrity chef lookalike...it’s endless. So you’re into that, and having a super sweet time in general, go. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">9. Old Men. They’re everywhere. I don’t know if there is an epidemic going on out in the world where woman in their older age are deciding to leave their husbands, or these men are life long bachelors, but they’re out there and they are looking for young ladies to creep on. Again, if you are into banging your dad’s friends, then by all means giver, but if you’re not just be nice to Grandpa, indulge him in a laugh and a smile, maybe let him buy you one drink that you monitor the pouring of, and then move on with your night. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">8. Wait staff. They don’t know about liquor. Not in Vancouver. This is an ongoing issue for me, and though it’s not <b><i>that</i></b> important, why don’t people know? WHY? They do know about what kinds of beers are on tap, I will give them that much, but once you start tricking them with questions about bourbons and the like it’s game over. So ladies when you start your next shift maybe ask the bartender some questions, you might learn something new. I have to know about a lot of shit that I don’t care about at work. So should you. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">7. Joey’s sliders. What would my life have been like if I didn’t know about these? I’d be living in a world where I did not know about heavenly, fluffy buns, and the perfect amount of delicious condiments. And that’s a world that I don’t want to live in. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">6. Windbreakers. Apparently they are now for going out attire, as well as sailing. But really, they aren’t. You know what else isn’t? Murses, bedazzled anything, wide leg jeans, styling yourself like Guy Fieri, sunglasses on your forehead or attached to the back of your head, out of date jerseys and last but not least, a bad attitude. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">5. Music is important. Extremely important. If you’re actually into music you will notice when you go to an establishment if it’s good or not, I personally feel that it can make or break the atmosphere of a place. No one wants to hear the same droning house music mix over and over and over again. They just don’t. If you must play house grooves, at least throw something into the mix with words and that people know. People enjoy hearing songs that they are familiar with. They get excited, they sing along with their friends, all is right in the world. What kind of a place wouldn’t want that? Apparently a lot of places, because this is an ongoing problem in Vancouver. Take my advice. Throw a Journey song on every once in a while. You will not be disappointed with the outcome. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">4. Dance like there’s no tomorrow. Dancing is fun. Whether you’re doing the dad ass dance to Old Time Rock and Roll or spinning in circles and stomping your foot to the latest Gaga, you are a guaranteed a good time. Have you ever seen a person look mad when they’re dancing? You haven’t. They’re either smiling, or making out with someone that they just met that night. True story. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">3. The Irish know how to party. The next time you see a bunch of drunken Irishmen around town you should probably join them. They’re pretty fun, their accents are hot (when they’re not slurring them haha...or....) , you can join them in a sing a long and you’ll probably know what they’re singing, they don’t specialize in house music, and they generally like to do a lot of hugging. And who doesn’t want to be hugged? </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">2. So do the gays. They do it better. Partying. Jobs. Fashion sense. Apartments. Whatever it is, they’re better at it than you. So you know what? Go out with a group of them. You won’t be sorry. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">1. We still haven’t found the guys. Well not the guys of our dreams anyways. Since I’ve got enough fictional boyfriends to keep my busy for a while, which we’ll continue learning about in the Mancouver of the Week feature, we shall remain our quest for some real ones. Because you know what? So far, it’s been pretty fun. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So the Mancouver crew thanks you for joining us on our adventures, and hopefully everyone has been as entertained as we have! </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Wish us luck in Vegas, we all hope to come out alive... <span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Bye for now! </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Me, Sister and LM</div></m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac>prettystarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05646389463676250275noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787604376544779327.post-27093821523966628212011-04-21T15:32:00.000-07:002011-04-21T15:32:27.674-07:00Go Canucks Go!In our time of need we ask ourselves <strong><span style="font-size: large;">"What Would Trevor Linden Do?"</span></strong><br />
Well, Trevor would shatter some glass and win that game. That's what.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/EQEEAKcEoEA?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>Enough said.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v655/rubba44/a%20Mancouver/canucks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="263" i8="true" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v655/rubba44/a%20Mancouver/canucks.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><strong><span style="font-size: x-large;">GO CANUCKS GO!</span></strong></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00533729314050239514noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787604376544779327.post-30503196736858865482011-04-18T19:01:00.000-07:002011-04-18T20:57:10.892-07:00So a ninja and a chef walk into a bar...<m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent> </m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Well here we are, getting nice and settled into the spring months, and after this past weekend I can tell that love is definitely in the air. And by love I mean overly excited guys molesting people in bars, much like dogs greeting each other at the beach. <a href="http://www.superpoop.com/doghump-neighbors-600.jpg"><b>Aka – lot’s of humping</b></a>. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And so begins this tale...</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The day started off well, with a lovely walk at the <a href="http://www.jiwiz.com/Images/DRpark01.jpg"><b>Derby Reach park in Fort Langley</b></a> accompanied by LM and our dogs, which was a story in itself. When we first ventured onto the trail it was sort of sunny, but it soon turned into all the realms of <a href="http://images1.fanpop.com/images/photos/2300000/Map-of-Middle-Earth-lord-of-the-rings-2329809-1600-1200.jpg"><b>Middle Earth</b></a>. We walked through sun, clouds, rain, hail... you name it, it happened. I would say that in Lord of the Rings terms we went by route of the Shire and ended up in Helm’s Deep. Along my travels I noticed that there were a lot of lone woman on the trails with earphones in. Probably not the best idea, as there were also a few unsubby looking guys doing their walk in construction boots and jeans.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v655/rubba44/criminal-minds-unsub.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v655/rubba44/criminal-minds-unsub.jpg" width="186" /></a></div><br />
Is this the best apparel for walking a trail and making the people around you feel like you’re not going to bury them in the middle of the forest under one the car graveyards in the woods? Yes, there were also the skeletons of two cars in these woods. How? Why? What? How? Who murdered these cars and left them there? Or better yet, how did they get them in there? I wonder if there’s a <a href="http://www.seekon.com/L/CAN/BC/Fort_Langley/board.html"><b>Fort Langley message board</b></a> I can put these questions on.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So yes, seeing as the day started out like this, it could only get weirder from there. After getting some fresh air and a little bit of exercise, we decided that we should probably counter balance it with some pub food and drinks. We stopped in at <a href="http://www.jimymacspub.com/"><b>Jimmy Mac’s pub</b></a> to fulfill this urge and had some pretty delicious sandwiches while we were at it – a clubhouse and a grilled cheese respectfully – and our first drink of the day. I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty okay with <b>$4.75 pints of beers</b>. If you are in the Walnut Grove/Port Kells area, first off I’m terribly sorry, but while you’re there you may as well hit up the Mac. The food has always been pretty tasty, they have great specials and it’s an excellent locale to watch whatever sport you fancy. There are many, many TV’s and plenty of seats. There are also a lot of old men there, but if you’ve been reading, they are everywhere, so just embrace it at this point. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Having that first drink obviously meant we had to have some more drinks, so we went on our merry way to have a mini <a href="http://www.vampire-diaries.net/"><b>Vampire Diaries</b></a> marathon and to get ready for the evening. Vampire Diaries is a whole other topic entirely, and will be covered in an upcoming <b>Mancouver</b> of the week feature. There’s just too much hotness to talk about and I will get way off track. This was accompanied by a bottle of red wine, so by the time we made it to my sisters to gather the rest of the <b>Mancouver</b> crew, we were feeling pretty sassy. Clearly we needed one more bottle before we left for dinner, so guess what? We had one.<br />
<br />
<b>Ed Note:</b> Thanks LM for the discovery of the <a href="http://www.debortoli.com.au/our-wines/our-brands/db/listing/view/db-traminer-riesling-2010.html"><b>DB Traminer Reisling</b></a>. An thank you <a href="http://www.debortoli.com.au/home.html"><b>De Bortoli Wines</b></a> for making such a delicious wine to put in our mouths! </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Dinner was happening at <a href="http://www.therefineryvancouver.com/"><b>The Refinery</b></a> on Granville Street, it was a place I had been to before and was intrigued by it enough to go back. <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0100405/"><b>Big mistake. Huge.</b></a> When we arrived the place was fairly empty, except for a large group of people in the back room. Obvious place to seat us in an almost empty restaurant? Well right next to the party that we weren’t a part of. Where else? It’s like the staff thought to themselves <b>“Okay where is the most awkward place we could put this reservation that is not connected to the other, much larger reservation? Oh I got it! Right next to them...”</b> We were a little perplexed by this, but were willing to go with it. What if there were potential men at the other table? Gotta think of the big picture. Well there weren’t, but I guess that’s not the restaurants fault. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The room itself is pretty cool, but that alone can’t redeem a place. And oh, it was going to need redemption. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Our waitress started off pretty nice, but we had the whole bourbon issue come up again. My brother in law said <b>“I hear you guys specialize in bourbons, what different kinds do you have?”</b> It seemed promising when she started listing them off, but as it turned out she only got through two and was like actually I don’t know, I’ll have to go and ask... if you are an establishment that claims to have a drink that is your <b>“thing”</b>, should you not make sure your staff is informed about it? Or perhaps I’m alone here? Am I too invested in this whole bourbon issue? Maybe I should go to some sort of bourbon counseling session where they tell me its okay when the wait staff does not know about their spirits, and that I’ve just got to move on. Well you know what? I’m not ready to move on yet. I’m keeping the issue alive for a while. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"> </span> <m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It’s a good thing our drinks arrived quickly because we were about to embark on a lengthy thank you speech session that the table next to us was getting into. I am not unfamiliar with speeches, they happen more often than not at my work unfortunately, so what I don’t want to hear when I go out for dinner is more of them</span>. Actually, do people generally ever want to hear speeches? I mean at <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SBB6pmixR4Q"><b>weddings</b></a> people are usually off getting more drinks that they don’t need, loud talking over the speech, or making fun of the person giving it. When the President gives speeches people are usually pretty angry because their shows on TV are cancelled for the evening or postponed. So in theory, speeches are a downer.</span></span> </span>From these speeches we learned that they were a group of BCIT students that were also part of a karate dojo, and they were dropping sensei bombs all over the place. I can’t be around the use of the word sensei; it makes me laugh <b>A LOT</b> because it will forever remind me of Napoleon Dynamite. So of course while all the karate lingo was being thrown out around us we were obviously saying things like <b>“I wonder if their dojo is called <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nitx2N4lVkY">Rex Kwan Do</a>”</b>, <b>“Bow to your Sensei!”</b> and the Karate Kid special <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sWbFWHrJ0CU"><b>“Sweep the leg”</b></a>. These people were no Cobra Kai I’ll tell you that much. </m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v655/rubba44/cobrakai.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="208" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v655/rubba44/cobrakai.jpg" width="320" /></a></div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v655/rubba44/cobrakai300dpi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v655/rubba44/cobrakai300dpi.jpg" width="288" /></a></div><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Actually if they were into <a href="http://tmnt.warnerbros.com/"><b>Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles</b></a> I could have gotten into that. I know a lot of information about that particular show, especially the movies. I mean Vanilla Ice was in the second movie which is pretty awesome, and his <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R_K6971WmAs&annotation_id=annotation_270948&feature=iv"><b>“Ninja Rap”</b></a> scene is nothing short of spectacular. My favorite turtle was totally Leonardo. Reflecting on this, I wonder if I had a crush on Leo? I probably did. That’s weird because he’s a human turtle? It is. And I know it is. So we’re all good here.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v655/rubba44/teenage-mutant-ninja-turtles-leonardo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v655/rubba44/teenage-mutant-ninja-turtles-leonardo.jpg" width="213" /></a></div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Anyways, the speeches went on for like a million years and volume of the clapping that people were doing was so loud that I’m surprised I have eardrums today. But thankfully they were on their way out shortly after the speeches ceased. Because we were laughing a little too much, mostly at them, I’m pretty sure that they weren’t impressed with us. One of the dudes kept staring us down, and I’m sure he was <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UTYKoNoNXkA"><b>karate chopping each of us in throat in his mind</b></a>. I bet if I had pulled some throwing stars or nun chucks out of my purse he would have been impressed. But as it was, we didn’t want to impress any of these guys. I don’t think they were what <b>Mancouver</b> is looking for. But if I ever want to join a dojo, I know were to go. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">During that mess we placed the first of our many food orders of the evening. And do not judge, we all shared. We started with two types of flatbreads, the prosciutto and organic vegetable, which were super delicious. There was a lot of commotion about the organic vegetables at first, but everyone shut up about it after it went into their mouths. Next up was:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v655/rubba44/a%20Mancouver/DSCN1824.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v655/rubba44/a%20Mancouver/DSCN1824.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>the Gnocchi and Cheese</b> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v655/rubba44/a%20Mancouver/DSCN1827.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v655/rubba44/a%20Mancouver/DSCN1827.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <b>Smoked Pork Tenderloin</b> </div>and braised beef short ribs. All of these items were enough to share between four people, but I would totally be okay with an order of the gnocchi all to myself. Creamy, cheesy, fattening. Outstanding! We did take a break, but eventually ordered some dessert as well, opting to share<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v655/rubba44/a%20Mancouver/DSCN1832.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v655/rubba44/a%20Mancouver/DSCN1832.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <b>The Profiteroles</b> </div><br />
A lovely cap off to a fabulous dinner. But then all this happened...</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">After all the ninjas left, we noticed that we were now left all alone in the back room. No supervision, no one really checking on us. Not good. Since the staff was preoccupied by another huge party in the front of the restaurant, we were left to our own devices. This was around the time that all the drinks we had consumed up to this point were kicking in, and much like a child that has been left unmonitored, LM started touching all the things that she was not supposed to. In the back room there is a huge rack of wine that goes all the way up to the ceiling, and as if it was taunting her, LM had brought forth a challenge to herself to see if she could take a bottle down without them noticing. Well they didn’t, and this made LM up the challenge ante by wanting to open the now newly acquired wine. After much convincing we finally got LM to put the bottle back, because we didn’t really feel like being banned from the restaurant quite yet. She did not like this part of the game and was pretty focused on them catching her fucking around with their wine. To quote her – <b>“Why won’t they just catch me?”</b> Why indeed. Well they did eventually catch on as when the waitress finally came back she was like ummmm when she saw the wine sitting on the counter. And then side eyed us suspiciously. Seeing where this was headed, I knew it was time to leave. It was also time to leave because the DJ had checked in and was spinning tunes from the <a href="http://mancouver-dff.blogspot.com/2011/03/1001-nights.html"><b>Cactus Club’s</b></a> <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rOnTDE_epTg&feature=related"><b>ambient house grooves mix</b></a>, and it was starting to make me sour. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Wrapping it up, we asked for our bill and this here friends is why The Refinery turned into a big mistake. Once they brought our bill they asked us how we wanted to pay and all of us said we had to use our debit cards. No big deal right? Oh so very wrong. We all went up to the bar to pay, and after waiting for what seemed like an eternity we asked what the problem was. The problem was that we very much inconvenienced them by wanting to pay with a few different debit cards. This not being my first time out for dinner, I am 100% positive that you can use multiple debit cards for your dinner transaction. You put in an amount, you pass the debit machine to the customer, they punch in their shit, and it is then passed back to you to tear off the receipt as clearly this is too confusing of a process for anyone but the restaurant staff to figure out. And that’s usually the end of it. Not at the Refinery. They did not like us describing to them how most debit transactions work, though I can’t say it was being done in the kindest tones, and when LM asked the person who I’m assuming was the bar manager what we could do to make it easier he said <b>“Well you could have paid with a credit card”</b>. This was also not said in a kind tone. And that was that. LM turned on some Hulk rage, my sister handed over a credit card and we all left wishing that we had stolen that bottle of wine after all. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Final outcome? The food was so, so good, but the staff was so, so not. I will not go back to a place where wanting to use more than one debit card comes with ‘tude. I mean for reals, get with the times, <a href="http://www.joeyrestaurants.com/"><b>Joey’s</b></a> will even divide up your bill for you by how many people are at the table. Down to the extra sauce ordered on the side. $0.89 cents three ways? Fuck yah they will. After telling most of the people that passed us on Granville not to go to The Refinery, we made our way over to <a href="http://www.johnniefox.ca/JFIS/Home.html"><b>Johnnie Fox’s</b></a> for a drink before our night’s finale, <a href="http://www.roxyvan.com/"><b>The Roxy</b></a>. Johnnie’s was busy and full of the usual Irish men that get Irish drunk in there. But that’s fine, we don’t go there for the men, it’s for the atmosphere and the best bartender in town, Dave. But if you are into drunken Irish men there’s no shame in that. They are Irish after all. And on this night they were especially into the drink, as one of the guys did an amazing bail off of his stool, only to get right back up and start drinking again. That isn’t a talent. It’s in their blood. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We did meet some nice fellows from Toronto and Kelowna, Rob and Billy, who were not falling off their stools, but did talk us into doing a shot of Jameson with them. Guess what? We didn’t need it. They also had with them a friend, who looked<b> <i>exactly</i></b> like another guy in the bar. When we first saw him we were like huh, that guy was just sitting over there...WHAT?! Holy shit there’s two of them! It was madness. We were like did you realize your identical twin is in the bar right now <b>AND</b> he’s Irish? He then told us that people often tell him he’s a bit <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cV96KGt0C78/SNq-48YVtfI/AAAAAAAAAAo/VKxD1kXBnb0/s400/DonnieWahlberg.JPG"><b>Donnie Wahlberg</b></a> in the face, and to prove it he acted out some <a href="http://shows.ctv.ca/BlueBloods.aspx"><b>Blue Bloods</b></a> lines for us. I’m not sure if they were actual lines from the show, but he did a pretty good job nonetheless. And his face was a little DWish, but nowhere near as hot. Yes Donnie is hot. Both my sister and I are longtime NKOTB fans, and we will fight you on this. To the non believers I say peace. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v655/rubba44/a%20Mancouver/74937.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v655/rubba44/a%20Mancouver/74937.jpg" width="223" /></a></div><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">While we were enjoying our beverages and chatting away I noticed something happening out of the corner of my eye. I could see our friend talking to Rob and Billy and one other guy that had just arrived. She was saying something along the lines of <b>“Why are you so low to the ground”</b>, and when we looked over I was like oh no, is this really happening? It was a train wreck in the making and I could not look away. Well he was so low to the ground because he was in wheelchair, which is what he told her when she asked why he was so low and it was followed up by <b>“I don’t believe you”</b>. I am killing myself laughing because Rob, Billy and pretty much everyone else around us were looking at each other with the same looks on our faces that said she is not making fun of a guy in a wheelchair right now is she? She was. Good thing he had a sense of humor, because he was laughing too and had to roll over and convince her. Cue up the face of mortification in three, two, one...</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Yup. Mortified. And that right there pretty much made my night. Until something epic happened later on to top it.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So that was pretty much our cue to leave and head over to The Roxy. There was no special reason for going to The Roxy on this evening, it was mostly because it’s The Roxy and it’s awesome. It was pretty busy, as it usually is on a Saturday, or really any day that end in Y I suppose, plus there were also a few stags and stagettes milling about because it is that time of the year after all. BUT, not so busy that we didn’t locate a prime booth at the front of the bar so that we could watch the flow of people coming in. And then we saw something amazing happen. A young man was trying to make his way to the back of the bar, when he suddenly got caught in a cougar trap midway. The unhot cougar forcefully grabbed his face and trailed her talons down his body. The look on his face was priceless, just screaming somebody help me! After he successfully removed her claws from his body, he walked over to us and said <b>“Oh my GOD did you guys see that?! What was that?!!?”</b>Oh yes. Yes we saw it. He was like I think I just got raped, she literally almost tore skin off my body when she raked her nails down my chest. And she also asked as she was defiling him <b>“Do you like that?”</b> No. No I don’t. I don’t like you ripping my skin off with your Freddy Krueger nails as it is not sexy, and your face is very old and scary. Just like Freddy. We all bonded over George’s pain and he would be back to see us later, where I could share his trauma and tell him my very own horror story. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">That was more or less the theme for the rest of the night. Raping. It happens at The Roxy. Before my own personal terror was about to begin, we were finally blessed with seeing a very good looking guy that was a part of one of the stagettes, and apparently everyone else in the bar thought so too, because he was surrounded by girls the entire time we were there. Since LM gave herself the job of The Roxy hallway greeter, which basically involved saying hi to everyone who walked by our booth, when the hot guy walked by the first time she reached out and touched his hat – side note, she also touched someone’s hair when we were at the bar, which could have gone either way, but it turns out he liked it. Once she touched the hat, a girl literally came out of nowhere and said <b>“That’s my cousin”</b>. And not in a friendly go get him he’s hot vibe, more of a hands off he’s mine, incest is best vibe. Really weird. However, I did eventually go over to his table and tell him that he was the best looking guy in the bar, but left it at that. I didn’t have the patience to fight off the half dressed 20 something’s that were all up in his grill, who were also yes, raping him. And I never will. I’m not going to dance up on you wearing a shirt no pants combo. I’m just not. Not out at the bar anyways. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">But what I will do is attract men that look identical to everyone’s favorite celebrity douche chef,<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v655/rubba44/a%20Mancouver/guyfieri-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v655/rubba44/a%20Mancouver/guyfieri-web.jpg" width="245" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <a href="http://www.foodnetwork.com/guy-fieri/index.html"><b>Guy Fieri</b></a>. </div><br />
There I was just minding my own business when Guy danced up to our table and consumed the rest of my night. Everything about him was awful; he was truly a hot mess. The bleached hair, the murse, the bad tattoo job, all of it was wrong. So wrong. At first I tried to brush him off, but Guy was not going to back down so easily. Even after he claimed <b>“You guys are making fun of me”</b>, to which I said <b>“Yes, yes we are”</b>, he still stuck it out. I think he even enjoyed it. He was nothing but determined. Because boundaries meant nothing to him, he got close enough to tell me that I smelt like brown sugar, and my response to that was that I work in a bakery. I don’t. And if that wasn’t enough, I went with a whole story of owning a bakery with my sister called <b>Two Sisters Bakery</b>. Why? Why this lie? But from that moment on I will now only make up places of business that my sister and I co-own and uses the term <b>“Two Sisters”</b>. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
<b>Ed Note:</b> There actually <b>IS</b> a <a href="http://www.twosistersbakery.net/Home.html"><b>Two Sisters Bakery</b></a>. It's in Alaska. We probably won't be visiting soon.<br />
<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Since Guy wouldn’t stop hounding me, I finally gave in and danced with him, and that turned out to be a really bad idea. Next time you feel like giving in to an annoying celebrity chef look a like, don’t. You’ll end up having to speak to him like we speak to my sister’s dog – Don’t. Don’t do that. No humping. Stop it. What did I just say? And so on. Needless to say it didn’t last long, and I left the dance floor to try and find sanctuary at our table. During one of the brief moments that Guy wasn’t around, our friend George found us again to tell us he was being raped once again, and why weren’t we there to help him. Listen George, I have my own raping problems to deal with right now, in the form of Guy Fieri. My problems far outweigh yours. He was a very nice young man, so George I hope that you made it out alive, sorry we couldn’t have been more of a help!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">LM was busy dancing up a storm in front of our table and making friends with all the passerby’s, and at one point I saw her conversing with one of the dojo dudes from the other party. God only knows what that conversation was about, but I’m going to guess that the use of multiple debit cards came up. She also stopped some other guy who was not a ninja, but he was a douche bag. He earned his douche title because my sister and I overheard him say <b>“No one in here makes over $100,000 a year”</b> to which my sister put her hand in his face and said <b>“BYE”</b>. Does it get more obnoxious than that? Is it even possible? Who says that? And okay moneybags, if you’re so disgusted in the poor people of the Roxy then why are you here? Hey why don’t you have a few more drinks and drive home. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Capital F. Capital U. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">But let’s get back to Guy, who was deteriorating before our very eyes and still not wanting to leave me in peace. Because remember when I said earlier that my night was made but then something more epic happened later on to make it even more excellent? Well here it comes, the <a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=The%20TSN%20Turning%20Point"><b>TSN turning point</b></a> of the evening. If there was ever a moment to use the term full circle, then this was it. There Guy was, busting a move in front of our table when all of a sudden even his body started rejecting him. His legs were about to give way, and he was going to bite it. In the midst of this happening, the guy in the wheelchair from Johnnies was entering The Roxy and making his way down to the back bar...but he did not make it because Guy dinner, drive in and dived right into him. It was almost like the whole thing happened in slow motion, we were like oh god, <b>OH GOD</b>, this is actually happening, and to this poor guy again!!! And you know what? This time he did <b>NOT</b> laugh. Wheels was pissed. I didn’t hear it, but he definitely mouthed Guy off and continued on with his night. Hopefully things turned around for him once he left our presence, because we were not doing him any favors in the luck department. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">One of the two surprising things about Guy is that he was pretty resilient. Even after the fall, that was closely followed up by another incredible fall; he would get right back up and keep going. The other surprising, no wait, shocking thing was that for how incredibly annoying he was, he was with a huge group of girls. How did this happen? They were all singing his praises too about what a nice <b>“Guy”</b> he was. Which you know what, fine I’m sure he was, but when I tell someone to ease up and not try to rape me anymore I usually hope that they will listen. Unless I initiated it, or gave you the go ahead, don’t. Just don’t. One of his girlfriends even had to tell him to be gentle. He again, did not listen. After he bit me in the shoulder – yes, and WTF – I had finally had enough. As much as I love The Roxy, I just couldn’t take it anymore. Trying to fend off Guy had used up all of my energy, so we quickly escaped, picked up some <a href="http://pitapit.ca/"><b>Pita Pit</b></a> and got the fuck out of there. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And so ends the tale of yet another <b>Mancouver</b> night. After writing all this out it feels like it went on for three days, but I can tell you that all of this happened in the span of 6 hours. And believe me you can’t even make this stuff up, it’s all true and it always happens around us. Lucky? Yah I would say so. We wouldn’t have anything to write about otherwise. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Toodles friends, until next time! </div>prettystarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05646389463676250275noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787604376544779327.post-24230868597763627062011-04-10T21:24:00.000-07:002011-04-11T17:39:56.468-07:00The great debate?<m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent> </m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So on Friday afternoon after a looooong day at work; where else does one go on one of the first sunny days than a patio? The correct answer is nowhere, and apparently the other answer is yoga – hey good for you people who were going to class, I truly admire the dedication. We had finally decided to give <a href="http://www.donnellygroup.ca/academic/"><b>The Academic</b></a> its long awaited try, but due to a silly doctor’s appointment time made by my sister, I was left to my own devices for the first hour and a half of my visit. Now I’m no baby, I can sit alone at a pub without supervision, all you need to do is put a beer in front of me and provide the people for me to watch and I will be happy. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And so that’s what I did. I took advantage of the patio that I didn’t realize Academic had and basked in the sun that was finally making its existence in Vancouver be known. Armed with the new <a href="http://www.glamour.com/"><b>Glamour</b></a> and a $5 <a href="http://www.peroniitaly.com/ca/"><b>Peroni</b></a> – gotta love those Donnelly drink specials – I was ready to take in the atmosphere and see what this venue would have to offer Mancouver. It was pretty quiet when I first arrived, but I did take into account not everyone has the luxury of leaving their workplace in the middle of what is most people’s halfway point in their shifts. There were a handful of people around and they were mostly girls, so I delved into my new magazine which featured ridiculous articles like <a href="http://www.glamour.com/sex-love-life/2011/04/dating-men-i-strip-for-your-boyfriend#slide=1"><b>why men go to strip clubs</b></a> –WHY? Why not? Don’t even get me started on this topic, I’ll be here for days – why people stay in marriages that are just “okay” – another topic that will keep me here for days – and of course the annual we found the most amazing swimsuits for all body types! How many years do we need to go over this? There aren’t that many bathing suit styles to necessitate an entire magazine article year after year about this are there? Bikini or one piece. Buy whichever one will be more flattering to your body. Problem solved! Haha. I guess that’s why I’m not writing <i>that</i> article. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Eventually the after work crowd started to trickle in and I was totally prepared to scope it out, as bringing the magazine was a great incognito way to casually stalk people. And sunglasses. Those are always a must have accessory for stalking as well. Hmmm, maybe I do have a fashion magazine article idea here after all...SO, what kind of people showed up for the Friday afternoon cocktail you ask? Well the thing is nothing terribly different from what we have discovered so far. There were the typical older gentlemen, some construction men of the sketchy variety and last but not least, the nerdy trio that was about to sit next to me. Here’s where I came to understand that even seemly geeky guys aren’t that friendly in Vancouver either. What is it about this city? Are we even turning the nerds into pretentious douche bags that think they’re too good to talk to you? And let me assure you, I say geeks and nerds in the most loving way because I can geek out with the best of them. I too used to collect <a href="http://subscriptions.marvel.com/title/X-MEN"><b>X-Men comics</b></a>...yah I did.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thank you Hugh Jackman</td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">But let’s back up here so that we can understand where this hostility is coming from. Now I’m from the school of being friendly to people and talking to everyone, because why not? You’ve got nothing to lose, and you never know who you’re going to meet. It could be someone totally awesome that you were missing from your life! This is why I love travelling so much, people usually want to talk to you, albeit mostly because you’re not from their city. So what is the problem with people who actually live in the same city as you? Why don’t we want to talk to them? I just don’t get it. So let’s try and start okay? It’s not like every person that tries to talk to you is hell bent on picking you up, maybe some people are just trying to be social and pass the time. So Vancouver, lighten up! The next time you see someone sitting alone reading Glamour, talk to them. They could be silently taking notes about you to discuss in their blog. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Because that’s what I was doing. The trio seemed nice enough, one of them was kind of cute, I am going to guess that they worked in engineering, and they must have known that I was listening in on their conversation as every once in a while I couldn’t help the huge smile on my face, along with a fit of giggles to go with it. Its funny what people talk about, I know if someone listened into one of our conversations they would be like <b>WTF</b> a hundred times over, because we’re not shy, we’ll discuss matters that shouldn’t be talked about in public places. But what was happening beside me was extremely curious. These fellows debated about the acting careers of <a href="http://www.johncandy.com/"><b>John Candy</b></a> and <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001548/"><b>Rick Moranis</b></a> for much, much longer than it should have gone on for. I’m not even sure how this became a topic; much less one to be discussed for this long, but my thought was hello? John Candy is the obvious winner here; I mean he was in <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0099785/"><b>Home Alone</b></a>. That trumps <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0097523/"><b>Honey I Shrunk the Kids</b></a> any day. End of story. If someone would have thrown down that gauntlet, the conversation could have ended much earlier. Reflecting on this, I should have just piped up.<br />
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<b>***Ed. Note: They were however BOTH in Spaceballs, so may I say possible draw?</b><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">They also conversed about the Canucks being ousted by Chicago in the first round of the playoffs, and now I know <b>THAT</b> was probably why I didn’t speak to them. Come on, what kind of Vancouverite can you be if you’re already not supporting your team?! Shameful. And so that continued on, as well as a lengthily discussion about the policing in our city, which is a touchy subject for some people apparently. So yah basically I eavesdropped on their entire conversation. What’s wrong with that? It’s not my fault the patio seats are so close together. And though that may be, it’s actually a pretty great patio, complete with comfy seats and lot’s of sun coverage. That’s important. But the sun was going down and the crisp winter air was back again, so when my sister finally showed up we ventured indoors to see what was happening. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">At this point I had been there for an hour and half and not once did I see a <a href="http://mancouver-dff.blogspot.com/2011/04/i-dont-see-nothing-wrong-with-little.html"><b>waitress hump any of the customers</b></a>! This was progress for a Donnelly establishment as far as I was concerned. It could have been because the <a href="http://www.google.ca/imgres?imgurl=http://blogs.seattleweekly.com/voracious/fieriflames.jpg&imgrefurl=http://blogs.seattleweekly.com/voracious/2010/11/adam_richman_guy_fieri_man_v_d.php&usg=__zy8IxVH1XyRKL-XMORjBMGrpndM=&h=448&w=335&sz=33&hl=en&start=0&sig2=qGqmp8RP5Hgrv0elKAQroA&zoom=1&tbnid=g7iTWltscJs6FM:&tbnh=133&tbnw=99&ei=hJyjTd7BI5OesQOc_OT6DA&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dguy%2Bfieri%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dfirefox-a%26sa%3DN%26rls%3Dorg.mozilla:en-US:official%26biw%3D1360%26bih%3D580%26tbm%3Disch&um=1&itbs=1&iact=rc&dur=272&oei=hJyjTd7BI5OesQOc_OT6DA&page=1&ndsp=26&ved=1t:429,r:6,s:0&tx=28&ty=85"><b>Guy Fieri</b></a>- esqe bar manager was working, but kudos to him for keeping the humping under control. The waitresses were pretty friendly for the most part, but not too keen what kind of liquor the bar actually offers. When we asked if they had <a href="http://www.makersmark.com/LegalAge.aspx?Referrer=http%3a%2f%2fwww.makersmark.com%2findex.aspx%3fpgid%3d23"><b>Makers Mark</b></a>, she immediately said no. And then we pointed to the bar and said but what about that bottle. Yes. Not a huge problem, but some people – aka my brother in law – are particular about what kind of bourbon they want to throw in their mouths. So just something to think about ladies, learn what’s in your bar stock. Plus knowing about bourbon? Total bonus if you’re in the business of picking up dudes. Sounds classy if you know about something other than <a href="http://www.jackdaniels.com/Default.aspx"><b>Jack Daniels</b></a>. Which isn’t even bourbon, but people always suggest that first for some reason. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We didn’t stay much longer as we were pretty starving at this point, and weren’t really feeling pub food. The menus at all of the Donnelly establishments are the same, so having already checked out Library Square the week before I knew the food would be tasty, but it wasn’t what I was feeling at that exact moment. We weren’t inside for long, but it’s a pretty large room, lot’s booths and tables around the bar area, so it would be an excellent location to catch some playoff games. But don’t come if you’re going to be one of those lame people who are already counting the Canucks out. Keep your bad vibes at home please. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">There were actually quite a few men inside, I don’t know how they snuck in past me as I had a pretty good view of the door when I was sitting outside, clearly I must have been too mesmerized by the nerds. I guess I really should get into the <a href="http://www.cbs.com/primetime/big_bang_theory/"><b>Big Bang Theory</b></a> after all...Again, there were many different varieties of men, specifically a group of guys who looked like they could have possibly been firemen??? So yah, nothing wrong with that! I will be back to investigate this venue further, I’ll be the one actually cheering the Canucks on, and guess what else? I’ll probably talk to you. <b> </b><br />
<div style="color: blue; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><u>GO CANUCKS GO!</u></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>prettystarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05646389463676250275noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787604376544779327.post-48200340085501490742011-04-01T19:17:00.000-07:002011-04-04T14:16:07.583-07:00I don't see nothing wrong with a little bump and grind?<m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent> </m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The weekly night out for <b>Mancouver</b> has come upon us once again, and this time around our choice was <a href="http://www.librarysquare.ca/"><b>Library Square</b></a>, another <a href="http://www.donnellygroup.ca/"><b>Donnelly Group</b></a> establishment. We chose this location due to our <a href="http://canucks.nhl.com/"><b>Vancouver Canucks</b></a> bringing their #WINNING streak back to this great city of ours, and what better place to watch them in action than a location that is stumbling distance to Rogers Arena. If you can’t go to the game, might as well place yourself somewhere that’s pretty close to it. </span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">We seemed to have arrived at prime time, the place was packed which is always a pretty good sign, and we also got to keep our #WINNING streak of good table mojo by grabbing a sweet spot in a booth against the wall in the general bar area. We could have a double shot of excellence here – ALL the TV’s to see the game, and a perfect view of almost the entire bar so we could scout the talent. What more could you ask for? Well we probably should have thrown good service in there, because that definitely went by the wayside as the night wore on. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Not too sure what started the bad service trilogy that we were soon to experience, but I’m going to throw it out there and say that it could have begun with the apparently unreasonable table turn that we initiated. Not wanting to have my back to the action, how could I possibly write about the men if I couldn’t see them, we decided to turn our table in such a fashion so that it could house both myself and LM behind it on the booth side. Yes this move would put us both on the same side of the table as tragic as that is, but it was imperative to the task at hand so for one night I could handle it. Well I guess I was the only one handling it, because later on we would find out that this kind of behaviour is unacceptable at Library Square. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Table finally adjusted to our liking, we settled in and happily placed our orders for the fabulous <b>$5 Heineken</b> pint special. The other special for the night was <b>$6.50 specialty cocktails</b> but when you are watching hockey, beer is totally where it’s at. I didn’t make this rule, but I will certainly follow it like a good Canadian girl. While we were waiting for our frosty treats, we scoped the room and after a assessing the situation for a few moments here’s what we noticed – the first of many rounds of awful shooters being ordered by the colleagues and associates sitting to the left of us, an array of men, some young, some an appropriate age, some with some very unusual fashion choices to attend a hockey game in, a possible <a href="http://www.cbs.com/primetime/criminal_minds/"><b>UNSUB</b></a>, of course our “dads” and their friends, and lastly the very distracting mixed bag of Canucks jerseys. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">This last item is where we came up with a business plan for the Canucks...so listen, I understand that you’re really attached to your jersey for whatever reason it may be – it won the Stanley Cup in a heated game of <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f8Kix2J86kY&feature=fvwrel"><b>NHL 98</b></a>, it’s seen its fair share of beer league hockey tourneys, you accidentally got roofied at the Roxy in it, whatevs – however, the team changed the jersey colors a few years ago now. It’s time to let go of the past and ghosts of players past and get a <b>NEW ONE</b>. Now I’m not talking about the <b>Flying V</b> </span><br />
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">or the <b>Flying skate</b>, </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v655/rubba44/a%20Mancouver/Vancouver-Canucks-Nhl-Jersey-Reebok-16-Linden-Black.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v655/rubba44/a%20Mancouver/Vancouver-Canucks-Nhl-Jersey-Reebok-16-Linden-Black.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">those jerseys are fucking awesome, I’m talking about the old <b>blue, red and white</b> ones</span><br />
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">with names like Bertuzzi and Messier (he never played here as far as I’m concerned). So that being said, what we thought the Orca Bay sales team should do is that upon entry to the hockey game if you are spotted in old jersey that isn’t on the ok’d list, it is promptly ripped off your back and you are then given a 50% off coupon to go and purchase yourself a new one. Hey buy two if you think spending more money will cover up the shame of having your old jersey torn from your body in front of your fellow hockey fans, first date or impressionable young son. At least your son will now grow up knowing the important life lesson of keeping your jersey up to date. Everyone wins here. I think this could be a big success. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Now having that business plan sketched out and put to bed for the time being, we got back to our other business – men. The crowd was starting to thin as people made their way to the game, and by this time our waitress still hadn’t cracked a smile or even given us half a fake laugh despite us trying our damnedest to get her on our side so we could ask her about her thoughts on the men situation at LS. Now I understand if you’ve had a bad day to end all bad days, we’ve all been there, but when your job is in customer service really the <b><i>only</i></b> important thing you have to do is be nice. That’s it. Fuck everything else up, who cares, just. Be. <b>Nice</b>. It’s simple really. I know this because I have to do it every day myself, and no matter how many times a day you desperately want to tell people to fuck off and die, you just don’t do it. Instead you smile and say “Thank you so much!” or “I would be glad to do that for you!” Easy yes? </span><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">No. Not for our waitress. Having given up on trying to win her over, we decided to move on with our lives as this was clearly a lost cause. Even asking her for wet naps proved to be too much, because instead we were given scalding hot water to wash away our wing sauce, and any chance of ever having be finger printed as well. It didn’t even come with the standard lemon garnish. Just a lonely bowl of super hot water. Strange, but the wings were pretty good at least. Not quite as good as the Buffalo Wild Wing goodness of Portland, that’s going to be a hard one to beat, but the Guinness BBQ sauce, was yum, yum, yummy. </span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">So clearly we weren’t getting any info on men from our waitress, it looked like we were going to have to fend for ourselves. There were a few attractive men milling about, along with 2 or 3 more rounds of shooters for the team of booze fueled office workers a few tables away from us... something tells me that the majority of those people didn’t make it in today, and a lot of bad decisions were made. A lot. Among the attractive dudes was a cute guy in a plaid shirt (one of my favourite varieties) sitting at the bar, and a <b><i>very</i></b> attractive man sitting farther on the other side of the room in questionable lighting. What’s questionable lighting you ask? Questionable lighting is something that makes you say “Is he hot? Is he fucking ugly? I just can’t tell!” Luckily for us, he was sitting on the route to the washroom, so we both confirmed that yes, he was indeed hot. Also sitting at the bar on route to hot guy much to our very delight, was Claude Windbreaker part 2, herein named <a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v655/rubba44/a%20Mancouver/kangol-fragment-1.jpg"><b>Kevin Kangol Kap</b></a>. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Now I’m sure that Kevin was a nice enough guy, but Kangol hats will always make me think of <a href="http://www.google.ca/imgres?imgurl=http://collider.com/wp-content/image-base/People/S/Samuel_L_Jackson/Samuel%2520L%2520Jackson%2520image%2520%282%29.jpg&imgrefurl=http://collider.com/samuel-l-jackson-talks-iron-man-2-nick-fury-captain-america-thor-and-the-avengers/22494/&usg=__yYn6bzVJu2v0E4NH0TbTKaM0JXk=&h=1050&w=700&sz=109&hl=en&start=0&sig2=nDiXR9rmLRX1OO_0K1L2lA&zoom=1&tbnid=tahUlYnyZy4O4M:&tbnh=141&tbnw=103&ei=FSiaTfW9E-fgiAK5_4SdCQ&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dsamuel%2Bl%2Bjackson%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dfirefox-a%26hs%3DQnB%26sa%3DN%26rls%3Dorg.mozilla:en-US:official%26biw%3D1360%26bih%3D580%26tbs%3Disch:1&um=1&itbs=1&iact=hc&vpx=128&vpy=80&dur=1063&hovh=275&hovw=183&tx=84&ty=154&oei=FSiaTfW9E-fgiAK5_4SdCQ&page=1&ndsp=26&ved=1t:429,r:0,s:0"><b>Samuel L Jackson</b></a>, and that’s never good. I know that LL Cool J rocked them first, but he has since been over shadowed by Samuel L, so it’s just not a good look. Especially if it’s lime green and you have coordinated the rest of your outfit around it. Color coordination is a rocky road to travel down; you have to become a master at that shit before you can apply it in your everyday life. You can’t just idly decide to do it, it’s an art form, and it’s not for everybody. Also around Kevin’s general area were two fellows, one who was sporting a velvet blazer and the other a tuxedo jacket, both of them wearing a different variation of a <a href="http://www.google.ca/imgres?imgurl=http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JXIjQlxtynI/S7oEN3hhq0I/AAAAAAAAAI0/xeZ3g5q-Vqw/s400/mens%2Bwide%2Bleg%2Bjeans.jpg&imgrefurl=http://jeanoholic.blogspot.com/2010/04/wide-leg-jeans-for-men.html&usg=__6G36cDH5HI4KzXxSnlTYjgML6-k=&h=300&w=300&sz=19&hl=en&start=0&sig2=rF7dKFzjv6mSVOYknJWi5g&zoom=1&tbnid=jq1womza9hdlwM:&tbnh=144&tbnw=144&ei=TSiaTbqqJMXgiAKNj52dCQ&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dmen%2Bwide%2Bleg%2Bjeans%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dfirefox-a%26hs%3DKoB%26sa%3DN%26rls%3Dorg.mozilla:en-US:official%26biw%3D1360%26bih%3D580%26tbs%3Disch:1&um=1&itbs=1&iact=rc&dur=273&oei=TSiaTbqqJMXgiAKNj52dCQ&page=1&ndsp=27&ved=1t:429,r:3,s:0&tx=72&ty=95"><b>wide leg jean</b></a>. One of the jeans also came in a light denim wash. I don’t have enough time to tell you what’s wrong with wide leg jeans, let alone any jeans that come in a light wash. I just don’t. However, there ain’t nothing wrong with any kind of velvet and tuxedo fashions, you just need to pair it with something a little less ridiculous and a little more of the year 2011. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Wow I really strayed from the story there, but let this be a lesson learned that there is some truly amazingly epic people watching to be had and enjoyed at Library Square. I probably should have started earlier in the day if I knew it was going to be so good. Anyways, back to the two attractive men... here’s where we complete the trilogy of bad waitress service. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">After ordering the blackened chicken sandwich to share, again offensive apparently, we made the mutual decision not to ask our waitress for anything else if we could help it. Because she didn’t really want to get it for us. That didn’t last long as we also had to ask for ketchup for our fries. Trust me when I say we were scared. We also got wind of the convo going on next to us about how you are NOT to turn your table in such a fashion that two people can sit behind on the same side. <b>DO NOT ATTEMPT THIS</b>. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">I don’t know why we weren’t told the same thing, but as I said before this could have been where the waitresses hate for us stemmed from. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Anyways, this is when we started to notice the all time worst waitress shenanigans that we have ever been privy to. While we were enjoying taking in the good lookingness of CGIPS at the bar and AMIQL across the room it was brought to our attention that we weren’t the only ones enjoying them. Turns out cute guy at the bar was being molested by one waitress every time she walked by, I’m going to assume that they knew each other as they acted in a friendly manner – <b>CLEARLY</b> - but while you’re working, do you rub your body all over your customers before going to take your next order? Turns out you do, as this was beginning to be kind of a thing here...over at hot guys table a different waitress was sitting down at their table having a jolly old time chatting and hanging out, and later on also rubbing her body all over various guys at the table. I didn’t know this was a thing? I know getting tips is how you earn your money, but really? Actually maybe our waitress should have done that too, I would have taken grinding up on me over being angry any day. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Now I’m all for rubbing your body all over a hot man, I would never take that luxury away from someone. Hot men are a dime a dozen, if you find one do exactly that. However, there is a time and a place for things of that nature, and I’m just not sure it’s during your waitressing shift at Library Square. And yes they were both still on shift. Having worked in customer service for way too many years all I could think was “Is there a manager around? Because this shit would never fly at the places I’ve worked, that’s fo’ dayum sure”. You have one waitress that is angry as fuck and two more almost fucking the customers. It’s madness! Because we were curious, we pulled aside the poor waitress that was STILL carrying <a href="http://www.google.ca/imgres?imgurl=http://www.todony.net/storage/scrollbar_shots.jpg%3F__SQUARESPACE_CACHEVERSION%3D1269189822981&imgrefurl=http://www.todony.net/events-today/2010/3/24/wednesday-032410.html&usg=__AIWOcydzLDZb-2lNywwKfg6VVNQ=&h=327&w=700&sz=72&hl=en&start=0&sig2=kh3-HHjbCb4Fl8dN_8SSLg&zoom=1&tbnid=qKJ2BXVSzKlmXM:&tbnh=77&tbnw=164&ei=-CiaTZCIJereiAL9qpj9CA&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dshots%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dfirefox-a%26rls%3Dorg.mozilla:en-US:official%26biw%3D1360%26bih%3D580%26tbs%3Disch:1&um=1&itbs=1&iact=rc&dur=339&oei=-CiaTZCIJereiAL9qpj9CA&page=1&ndsp=21&ved=1t:429,r:7,s:0&tx=77&ty=29"><b>massive trays of horrible shots</b></a> to the office workers – baileys, lemon drops, broken down golf carts? Are these people trying to make themselves barf and hate their lives in the morning? This waitress was quite pleasant which as a nice change of pace and told us that the manager wasn’t there at the moment...ahhhh yes. Well this explained so much. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">And that was that. Though it was extremely fascinating, we were spent from having to look at all the dry humping going on around us, and from anticipating the group vomit that was about to happen in our vicinity at any moment. I didn’t want to be here to see the final outcome of either of these events. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Having been to <a href="http://www.librarysquare.ca/"><b>Library Square</b></a> before I knew that it was a great spot – it’s always busy on game nights, the weekends have fun music, there are fantastic drink specials, the food is pretty yummy – but the one thing lacking big time on this particular night of course was the service. I can’t recall how it was on the other times I’ve been, but this night was truly a disaster. And that’s always kind of a downer isn’t it? Having a great waitress/waiter is indeed a bonus, and I know now not to take it for granted. I of course will return, I can handle another disaster, because you never know who’s going to be molested under the questionable lighting....</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> It could be you!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Until next week...</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>prettystarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05646389463676250275noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787604376544779327.post-34279239643359079082011-03-25T10:18:00.000-07:002011-03-25T10:44:46.467-07:00Spotted: Lonely Boy at Joey's BBY<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Another week gone by and though we were still kind of feeling the repercussions of Portland, drinks were definitely in order.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Earlier in the week we had many discussions on where we should take the team, and then I recalled a friend of mine telling me a few months ago about the<a href="http://www.dhmbars.ca/academic/"><b> Academic</b></a>, another<a href="http://www.dhmbars.ca/"><b> Donnelly Group</b></a> establishment on West Broadway. It was another one of those “there’s tons of men there” deals, and I was beginning to become very wary of people proclaiming this to me because yet has this statement come to fruition. Anyways, I was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt, based on the name Academic I was going to assume that there would be some wicked smaht people there - that’s my Boston accent in case you were curious – due to the name, and from hearing through the grapevine that there were a lot of university bros there. Now that I’m thinking about the location, there might even be some doctors in the house as well. Hmmm...</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Well color me disappointed because we didn’t actually make it to Academic. Guess where we did make it to again though? <a href="http://www.joeyrestaurants.com/"><b>Joey’s</b></a>. Yup, back for more sliders and the like, we headed to Joey’s in BBY for a redo. The reason for the location change was due to a workplace group drinking effort... One person tells another person, that person then tells someone else, and next thing you know we’re all taking over the lounge at Joey’s. The group turned out to be mostly men, me and my fellow talent scout LM. Sounds good right? Well it’s not, because pretty much all of the men that I work with are married. Or are getting married. Or have been married way too many times. So clearly these weren’t our best laid plans, but it’s hard to pass up a good group drinking session, and if you’ve read the other posts, we can never say no to Joey’s. We had also declared that we would be back on a Thurs or Friday after work to see what the crowd was like, so here we were fulfilling our part of the bargain. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">The group was pretty fun, minus the people who weren’t drinking because they were <b>a</b>) on a diet and <b>b</b>) had to go for a run...couldn’t you have taken care of that earlier in the day? </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">The only kind of running we’re interested in is if it’s to the fridge to get more wine. Or, with the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bl4dEAtxo0M"><b>Devil</b></a>. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Upon my arrival I had asked Runner what he was drinking and he said cranberry juice, and of course in my kind tone I said “Why, what’s your deal?” And so the running story was brought forth. When LM arrived she introduced herself to Runner and said “Hey I met you a year ago. You’re Joe. Your new name will now be <b>Year Ago Joe</b>”. Surprised that LM could remember his name and not call him HEY YOU, he went from Runner to<b> YAJ</b>. Since LM does not work with us, introductions were made and she had the immense pleasure of meeting and experiencing the best looking man our workplace has to offer. As previously mentioned, of course he is married but that should not stop a person from indulging in dreamily staring at him. It’s almost offensive how good looking this man is, and if I had to describe one thing about him it would be his hair – I have a strange obsession with great hair, hello Robert Pattinson – it’s very Trevor Lindenesqe. Funny how Trevor pops up in so many of these posts, I guess he’s our go to guy for a lot of things in life.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Unrelated but in regards to TL, I just bought a sweet t-shirt off <a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/TREVOR-LINDEN-WWD-SHIRT-CANUCKS-THROWBACK-JERSEY-COOL-/320673020212?pt=LH_DefaultDomain_0&var=&hash=item76c00e17d6"><b>Ebay</b></a> with a picture of Trevor circa ‘94 that says “<i><b>What would Trevor Do</b></i>?” Exactly. What would he do?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Well he would probably be staring at McDreamy as well, it’s <b>THAT</b> good. Aside from all the dudes we were with, the lounge was again packed with the same kind of offerings that we had on our previous visit. We decided to ask our waitress - who was awesome by the way, mad props to Joey’s for hiring such lovely and friendly girls at your BBY location - what kind of crowd this lounge gets on certain days. She was very specific, and told us that you definitely want to come here at noon on a Friday, it’s packed and there are no women. Only men. And according to her some pretty good looking ones as well. She was excited to give us this good news and we were excited to hear it. I’m pretty sure I can pencil in a nooner on an upcoming Friday, and mostly likely not return to work. It will be an epic afternoon I’m sure. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">After dropping those words of wisdom, our waitress finished off her shift and we got another excellent waitress in return. Joey’s was really moving up on our list; we had sliders, vodka supernovas, imperative information...life was good. The one downside about this particular Joey’s is the location of the washrooms. They are <i>so</i> far from the lounge, so far that they’re actually almost in the Joey’s in Coquitlam. Poor planning on the designer’s part, but not a big enough issue to keep me away. But girls need washrooms to be close. That’s just kind of an unwritten rule that establishments should be aware of. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Moving on, my co workers slowly evaporated, but not before we got to hear the single best Vegas story we’ve ever heard in our lives. Truly amazing. Thanks <b>JPEI</b> for making us feel like we were there, you have excellent story telling skills. Work people gone, we made room for our late arriving <b>Mancouver</b> crew. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">The lounge was bustling at this point, and a lot of the people were the same people that had been there since we arrived. They were in for the long haul just like us. Here’s where we noticed the intriguing guy sitting at a table behind us, we’ll call him Lonely Boy for all the <a href="http://www.gossipgirl.net/"><b>Gossip Girl</b></a> fans in the house...ok, well maybe just for me. Anyways, there he was all by himself, nursing his beer and reading the Province for what was probably a good two hours at this point. I don’t know anyone that reads the paper from start to finish, perhaps there were some classified ads that he was really interested in, I don’t know. But we were about to find out all about Lonely Boy. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Apparently we weren’t being as quiet as we thought we were while discussing what Lonely Boy’s story was, because our waitress, who obviously has super sonic hearing, stopped at our table to give us the goods. She told us that he can often be found in the lounge, always by himself, usually reading a book, and sometimes has been there for her entire shift. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">That’s a huge commitment staying at a lounge for that long, by yourself no less, and wouldn’t you want to go and read your book somewhere with less dance music and more why aren’t you just at home reading your novel?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Curiosity now off the charts, our superstar waitress waited a few minutes so that it didn’t look conspicuous, then casually went over to Lonely Boy to delve more into the mystery surrounding him and his affinity for Joey’s lounge. She came back with the knowledge that not only does he love reading, he is also there working on a novel about a man who is cheating on his wife, all while leading a double life. We don’t know if it’s an autobiography, but we do know that it takes place in Vancouver. At one point our waitress was super stoked and said, “<i><b>Look, he’s on his iPhone, I bet he’s editing the story right now</b></i>”. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Amazing. Our waitress - sorry we didn’t catch your name and that I keep referring to you as waitress! - did say he was very nice and that he always tipped well, so if Joey’s is the place Lonely Boy wants to write non fiction, then all the power to him. It’s pretty awesome there. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">The night soon came to an end after our discussion of the details of Lonely Boy's novel, which then somehow moved on to telling stories about ghosts and the haunted places of Vancouver. Seems like that’s something we’re going to have to be blogging about in the near future. <b>Mancouver</b>, <a href="http://www.halloween.com/"><b>Halloween edition</b></a>. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Scared, we left Joey’s in good spirits (pun intended) and made our way home to catch something else that would frighten us tonight – the <a href="http://twitter.com/charliesheen"><b>Charlie Sheen</b></a> special on TLC. Between his face in HD and the ghost talk, I knew I would not be sleeping well this evening. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">To finish up, Joey’s you were spectacular once again; we can’t wait to venture out on a Friday at noon to see what the what is. Thanks to both of our fabulous waitresses, you were a cornucopia of information, to the sliders and yummy Italian flatbread that we put into our mouths, it was just what I needed, and to Lonely Boy – I hope your novel is a success. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Many apologies to the Academic house, we had big plans for a visit, we will make it up to you two fold!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div>prettystarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05646389463676250275noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787604376544779327.post-13369461638225106282011-03-23T13:18:00.000-07:002011-03-23T16:39:06.906-07:00Do you have any Irish in you? Would you like some?<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial;">Although it’s been almost a week since St. Patrick’s day, I thought I should give a shout out to two of my favourite Irish spots in Vancouver. Though I did go out for a few Guinness’s on the one day of the year where everyone and their dog is Irish, it was an early night due to the fact that we had to get up at the crack of dawn for our Portland trip the next day. This was probably for the best, seeing as we started drinking at 8 in the morning anyways. Or maybe we should have just stayed out and continued drinking? Now we’ll never know…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial;">Anyways, since Irish accents are one of the three soothing sounds I like to hear in my ears, I’m always on the lookout for where this happens in our fine city. Look no further than <a href="http://www.johnniefox.ca/JFIS/Home.html"><b>Johnnie Fox's Irish Snug</b></a> on Granville Street. If you’re looking for something a little less intense, and a little less Australian than <a href="http://www.doolins.ca/"><b>Doolin's</b></a>, wander across the street, find yourself a seat at the bar and have bartender Dave pour you the best Guinness Vancouver has to offer. Once you get into your second or third beer you will soon notice that you will shortly become a minority in this bar, because all of the Irish people in Vancouver? Yah they’re at Johnnie’s. You won’t hear any complaints from me about this, the Irish are a pretty great crowd, they just want to drink and be merry, tell you tales and by the end of the night, have drunken sing a longs. Where is the wrong here? There isn’t. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial;">It can get pretty busy on a Saturday night, but you won’t even notice as you’ll have made a few new friends that would be more than happy to share their table with you. But probably not their Yorkies. Those things are delightful and delicious, and you will probably want an additional order just for yourself. Now you’re probably intrigued. Go there, order them and enjoy! </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial;">My second favourite spot is the<b> <a href="http://irishheather.com/">Irish Heather</a></b> in <a href="http://www.gastown.org/"><b>Gastown</b></a>. Though it was a little bit more special back in the days of it’s former location, most especially the freezing back room that was host to an epic Bon Jovi “<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mh8MIp2FOhc"><b>I’ll Be There for You</b></a>” sing a long – this is a reoccurring theme at Irish establishments in case your were wondering. From here to Dublin – the new location is pretty great too. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial;">Thought it’s not as full of Irish people, it does entice the likes of<b> <a href="http://www.u2.com/">Bono & The Edge</a></b> as I’ve been told by a friend of mine who had the luck and pleasure of crying in front of them there. I was also told to go there the last time U2 was in town, but apparently I was being a dumb bitch that day and did not listen. I could have been crying in from of them as well. <b>REGRET</b>.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial;">I haven’t tried a lot of things on the menu, I’ve mainly focused on putting Guinness into my mouth, but what I have tried has been pretty tasty. Their pot pies are outstanding, I’m fairly certain the last time I was there everybody around me had one on their table. They also have quite an extensive list of whiskies, bourbons and the like if that’s what you’re into. The Shebeen Whiskey House across the alley would have much more information on this than I do; it’s not quite my forte. Except apparently when I’m in Ireland and I drink it by the very large glassfuls. Not one of my better ideas. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial;">You can also enjoy live music here on Tuesdays and Thursdays, a co worker of mine plays there on Tuesday nights, sometimes with his very hot son. Tall, dark hair, blue eyes and a musician? Yuck right. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial;">He’s pretty young, so it’s probably best to just go and admire him from afar, but trust me when I say your eyes will thank me. </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><div style="color: #38761d;"><i><u><b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial;">Slainte! </span></b></u></i></div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #38761d; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/--8DfQTuRYZM/TYqET7ghH0I/AAAAAAAAACU/IoFOIH3SMsc/s1600/1300356616-75.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/--8DfQTuRYZM/TYqET7ghH0I/AAAAAAAAACU/IoFOIH3SMsc/s200/1300356616-75.jpg" width="115" /></a></div><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial;"> </span></div>prettystarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05646389463676250275noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787604376544779327.post-69253359237104312922011-03-22T21:45:00.000-07:002011-03-23T16:34:58.924-07:00Shamwrong shake (Portland, the home stretch)<m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent> </m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">On Sunday morning we woke up to a war zone of <a href="http://www.google.ca/imgres?imgurl=http://monkey.ca/wp-content/uploads/2008/04/cheesburgers.jpg&imgrefurl=http://monkey.ca/tag/martin/&usg=__XUqOcaqaZL9Xsg5_5DVggGxCdL4=&h=189&w=350&sz=26&hl=en&start=0&sig2=0ikJfr-KF70uD7YOCH7q4A&zoom=1&tbnid=wG146vea8TG_LM:&tbnh=79&tbnw=147&ei=RR2KTbXRFZG-sAPUy8z6Cw&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dmcdonalds%2Bcheeseburger%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dfirefox-a%26sa%3DN%26rls%3Dorg.mozilla:en-US:official%26biw%3D1280%26bih%3D526%26tbm%3Disch0%2C114&um=1&itbs=1&iact=rc&dur=235&oei=RR2KTbXRFZG-sAPUy8z6Cw&page=1&ndsp=21&ved=1t:429,r:17,s:0&tx=60&ty=51&biw=1280&bih=526">cheeseburger</a> wrappers, empty wine bottles, clothes strewn everywhere and last but not least, a message waiting from Claude. LM and Kathy grabbed a cheeseburger, settled back into bed and we delved into the mysterious world of Windbreaker. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We found out that he was just chillin’ at “Mansion” and when he asked what LM was doing, she proudly said “Eating a cheeseburger”. Claude actually had an amusing response with “Not sexy, but whatever you’re into” followed up by “Come over here”. I must admit it takes a certain kind of guy to still be intrigued after all of the ridiculous and unrealistic messages that were sent to him, and then to still want a girl to come over after munching on McD’s cheeseburgers while in bed at 10 in the morning. My guess? Windbreaker probably paid his bill and he probably got those drugs. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">But it didn’t stop there, Windbreaker stayed with us for pretty much our entire trip home. We didn’t get a picture of “Mansion”, but we did get a picture of a bedroom complete with working fireplace and the caption “Still in bed”. We know WB, obviously your DJ profession doesn’t require you to be out until late, late at night... I’m going to say it was probably a picture of someone else’s bedroom...and it was most likely the poor, unfortunate soul that he picked up the night before. We also found out that he was going to make us dinner at “Mansion” had we stayed in town another day. Deciding to let that one ride for a little while, we stopped for breakfast in the very god fearing town of <a href="http://www.ci.woodland.wa.us/"><b>Woodland, Washington</b></a>. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">A little nervous with our surroundings – we were all afraid we would burst into flames just by being in the town - we strolled into the <b>Oak Tree Restaurant</b> that featured all your gift shopping needs and a Sunday buffet. There’s nothing like inspirational postcards and ceramic crosses to go with your bacon and eggs. Instantly worried by the thought of a breakfast buffet, these never usually turn out well, I was beginning to think that I should have held out for that dinner at “Mansion”. Turns out all the food was fabulous, including the buffet that the sister’s par took in, while we enjoyed our turkey sandwiches, hot and cold ones respectfully. Just another great recommendation for the good old US of A. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Back on our way home again, it was decided that more shopping needed to be done so there was a quick stop in at the <a href="http://www.premiumoutlets.com/outlets/outlet.asp?id=71"><b>Seattle Premium Outlets</b></a>, and the <a href="http://www.tulalipcasino.com/"><b>Tulalip Casino</b></a> for me as I had met my shopping quota. The girls soon found out that the <a href="http://jamaica-gleaner.com/gleaner/20110323/news/news6.html"><b>Supermoon</b></a> was still working it’s wonders, as the crazies were still out in full force ready to celebrate the impending full moon with the casing of cars in the parking lot, letting their screaming kids manhandle all of the glasses at Sunglass Hut and taking a discussion about whether or not to go into Juicy to the next level of annoying. They came to collect me at the casino, and back on the road we went. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">BUT...not before our last trip to McDonalds. Wanting to make it an even three on our visit score card, we were mostly going to see if they had the elusive <a href="http://www.shamrockshake.com/"><b>Shamrock Shake</b></a> still kicking around.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-biUOLbWI03Q/TYqDbJTEHFI/AAAAAAAAACQ/DAXliWnLlrY/s1600/20100222-shamrockshake2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-biUOLbWI03Q/TYqDbJTEHFI/AAAAAAAAACQ/DAXliWnLlrY/s320/20100222-shamrockshake2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
And there it was in all its green glory, beckoning to us on the order board. Super stoked, we pulled up to the drive through with much more excitement that was probably needed, but hey these things only come out once a year, and not always to every McD’s. It anything, it’s a delicacy. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We rolled up to the order board and here’s where we turned McDonald’s world upside down. We asked for 3 shakes, HALF Shamrock, HALF Chocolate. Holy shit, can you handle it!? Well McDonalds couldn’t, because after a lengthy pause we were told by the clerk that they aren’t able to do this transaction. Not wanting to go down without a fight, my sister explained to the clerk that we had just done this at another establishment two weeks ago and it didn’t seem to pose an issue. She was NOT having it and stood her ground, a ground that was made of lies and deceit because it CAN be done. I’ve experienced it. Now I haven’t worked at McD’s, but I’m pretty positive that the shake distribution is done with the pressing of a button, and then by pressing that same button, you stop the process. I could be wrong, so if there’s a former employee in the house, please let me know. Regardless of this clerk’s baditude, we were still going to enjoy our chocolaty mint beverage, so we placed an order for two chocolate shakes, one Shamrock and an extra glass. We would deal with this shit ourselves. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Shakes divided up, we finally made our way back to Canadaland. During the last home stretch we got back into the Windbreaker chronicles. We realized that we had never asked what was for dinner. We soon found out that we were going to miss out on a “Bomb azz stir fry”. The response to that was “Oh. Well we wanted steak and lobster”. Guess what? Claude Windbreaker is STILL communicating with LM. Nothing can break this guy’s stride. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I want to thank the city of Portland for providing us with more fun than most people could handle, a shout out to Claude Windbreaker and “As Bono” for making my future a little brighter, and to the girls – <b>THANKS</b> for being hilarious. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="http://ryanseacrest.com/"><b>Seacrest</b></a> out </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div>prettystarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05646389463676250275noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787604376544779327.post-9595860810905136572011-03-22T14:58:00.000-07:002011-03-22T18:58:27.140-07:00As Bono (Portland Part Deux)<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Armed with massive hangovers from the champs and non pizza, we knew that getting to breakfast was extremely important. After a lot of giggling about Windbreaker, whom we decided needed the first name Claude as he is obviously from the French speaking region of Brussels, we amazingly got ourselves clothed and went on the most likely impossible quest of finding out where to go for breakfast. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Turns out it wasn’t too impossible, the girls at the front desk did know how to provide this information for a change, granted we were once again told about an exclusive place over the bridge…far travel was not an option on this morning, I had a funny feeling no one was going to be saving any lives on this day without some breakfast in them first. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We were told to grab the free tram and go downtown to<u><a href="http://www.originaldinerant.com/"> </a></u><a href="http://www.originaldinerant.com/"><b>The Origina</b></a><b>l</b>, a 50’sish diner with hands down the best orange pop we’ve ever tasted. It was a fancified orange pop all dolled up with some vanilla bean, and would have tasted exceptional with some vodka. But no one wanted vodka. No one. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">At The Original we delved into some conversation that was not appropriate for the breakfast table, or most tables for that matter. Not really sure how or why the topic came up, but on this particular morning we were most curious about the process of fisting. Yes I think you heard me correctly. Fisting. Many questions were posed, and many hand diagrams were used in the guessing of the answers to those questions. Stumped, we decided the only ones who could provide us with the knowledge we wanted were our new found friends Mo and Em. We put that in our pockets for later, but not before deciding that LM’s new last name was going to be Fister. First name Iwona. And that she was going to be introduced to someone with this name later on as her punishment for repeatedly singing an annoying song to us that our hangovers did not want to hear.<br />
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</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Immature? Definitely. Worth it? Absolutely. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We finished up our breakfasts, which I know is hard to believe after that conversation and the fact that I was majorly feeling the repercussions of that god damn champagne. Yes I will blame that, and not one of the other 150 drinks I had the day before. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The food was pretty good, and thank god they had poutine on the menu, at least we could safely know that would be taken off the drunken 2 in the morning food topics discussion. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Bill paid; we then went on a search for donuts. Yup, we just ate and now we needed donuts as well. In case you don’t remember, we were all about glamorous and fine gourmet foods this weekend. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The donuts came into play because while at breakfast we kept seeing people cruise by with delightful looking pink boxes of something called <b><a href="http://voodoodoughnut.com/">Voodoo Donuts</a></b>. We asked our waitress – yes it was a mistake – where we could find said donuts and she obviously gave us the wrong directions. On our way down to the donut shop we definitely noticed that we were entering an area very similar to something one would call the skids, and this is where we came across Dante’s.<br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The night before I think that we were dressed in a way that said we don’t want to hang out on the downtown eastside, so I’m not entirely sure why Luke had suggested this place to us when we said we wanted to go for more drinks and some dancing. We didn’t want to do the <i>crack</i> dance Luke, come on man. This is also probably where Adrienne wanted us to end our night as well... Brightside? Dante’s advertises many things on their signage, including salad. That’s exactly what I was thinking of ordering if I ever go there. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We finally found Voodoo Donuts after asking yet another person for directions, this time we got the right ones, probably because he was a normal civilian and not someone working in the hospitality industry in Portland. We were sad to see that there was a <b>HUGE</b> line up to get into this place. Apparently it’s where all the people in Portland where, because the downtown did seem eerily quiet. We opted not to wait 45 minutes for a donut, the champagne wouldn’t allow for it, but we did stop someone with a box of them just to taunt ourselves with what we were missing. They looked incredible. I would call them a trendy donut, as they were made of different crazy concoctions like bacon and maple, NyQuil infused, peanut butter and rice crispies, etc. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">When we asked the guy if they were good he looked at us like it was the most obscene thing he’d ever heard. Okay dude we get it, no need to be offended about the donuts. And thank your lucky stars we didn’t ask you about fisting as well.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So we were a little sad about the donuts and we decided we’d try again the next day (we didn’t try very hard). We then traveled up to where the mall was to get our shop on. No one wants to know about this, so I won’t bore you with the details, but during this time is when we received the first of many truly amazing messages from Windbreaker. Get ready, cause here it is... “<b>Wassszuperrrrr</b>”. What????? After laughing our asses off we decided to cut all ties with him, no one should ever respond to someone who intentionally uses a hello in the style of many years past Budweiser commercials. However, that didn’t last long because just in case we didn’t receive that message, he sent it via text as well. Not even knowing how to respond to that in the frame of mind we were in, LM decided to save it for later. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">During the shopping portion of our day we finally found some more useful people, the very pretty and fun sales girls at the Betsy Johnson store. They even took the time to write down the names of places AND the directions, the correct directions to boot, and provided us with the wonderful suggestion of going for beers and chicken wings. Not really sure why that was the exact combo that we needed at this point, but it sure did sound fantastic. The place the girls told us to go for wings was you guessed it - over the bridge - but luckily there was another wing place down the street just waiting for us. I didn’t realize Portland specialized in wings, but I’m not complaining that’s for sure.<br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Exhausted from our wild goose chase for donuts, Windbreakers greeting and the remnants of yesterdays booze we made our way over to <a href="http://www.buffalowildwings.com/"><b>Buffalo Wild Wings</b></a> for a taste explosion in our mouths, and the first of many tranny sightings that was a feast for our eyes. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We were definitely enjoying our frosty beers and outstanding honey BBQ wings – I would have taken a bath in that sauce – and highly recommend the order of these tasty boneless delights should you ever be in the vicinity of a Buffalo Wild Wings. This also turned into an inappropriate discussion of wing sauce on boobs, and a newly coined saying “fingerbang the chicken wing”. What’s wrong with us? Anyways, not really sure why we thought this would be a normal afternoon, how stupid of us, but this is where we come across Deborah Louise – not his/hers name at all, but fitting we thought. It was as if he/she was gift from above, Deb just seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Not sure why Buffalo Wild Wings was he/she’s hangout of choice, though I wouldn’t begrudge anyone of the wing sauce, it seemed like there could have been a better place for Deb to chill dressed the way he/she was. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We weren’t the only ones in on the Deb joke, men that were using the bathroom with him/her kept coming out with huge smiles on their faces and we were like I know right?! Why is this happening at Buffalo Wild Wings?! The thing is, to each their own, baby you were born this way. If that’s what you’re into I totally have no problem with it at all, but it was the fact that Deb was at BWild in the midst of March Madness, where I’m thinking no one else that was his/her type was at, and that Deb had the full lady ensemble on but decided to forgo a wig. Instead he/she opted to put a tiny pink headband, with a tiny pink bow onto his/hers comb over. Not the best choice Deb. Now if he/she went with a pink baseball hat instead, perhaps things would have been different. Totally jazzed by Deb, we packed up our leftovers to add to our growing food supply and made our way back to the hotel to change, and of course have more drinks. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Here’s where the most amazing BBM transaction EVER went down. Deciding to answer the question “Wassszuperrrrr” with “I don’t know what that means”, a series of other great gems were fired at us as well. I’m just going off memory here, as I am unfortunately not the owner of these truly amazing pieces of BBM art:</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>LM</b>: What are you doing?</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>WB</b>: I’m at Mansion</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>LM</b>: What’s Mansion?</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>WB</b>: That’s what I call my crib. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>LM</b>: Why?</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>WB</b>: Cause it’s in like the Hollywood hills of Portland yo</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>LM</b>: Do you live with your parents?</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>WB</b>: I have two roommates </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>LM</b>: Are they your parents? </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And so on. This went on for a good hour, firing back ridiculous questions to Windbreaker such as “Why do you live in a mansion?”, “Do you have a boat?” and when he said he used to but he sold it, answering it with “You should buy one”. When LM asked for a picture of “Mansion”, Claude suddenly went dormant. The only answer we got back to that one was “Its dark”. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Interesting... Seems to me that “Mansion” probably doesn’t exist. Is there no lighting at “Mansion”? Is that why you can’t take a picture? Did you blow all your money on champagne, therefore making you unable to pay your electrical bill at “Mansion”? Color me confused. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">But fear not, this would not be the last we heard from dear Claude Windbreaker. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Dressed and ready to rock for another night on the town, we departed for <a href="http://www.kellsirish.com/portland/index.php"><b>Kell’s Irish Pub</b></a>. There was a weekend long St. Patrick’s Day festival that was going on there, and much to our delight, there was also a U2 cover band playing that evening. Yes there was.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Enter <a href="http://www.u277.com/Home.html"><b>U277</b></a>, and most especially the lead singer who is listed on their website with the moniker “<b>As Bono</b>”. At first everything seemed pretty good, the band was doing what seemed to be a pretty good job, “As Bono” was really getting into his role, as were the many ladies surrounding the stage trying to get a piece of his action. I don’t know if they were aware, but it’s “As Bono”, not “Actually Bono”.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We needed to get closer to all of these shenans, so we made our way up to the stage and planted ourselves front row. Surrounding us up there were couples fiercely gyrating, horny cougars touching themselves while filming “As Bono” filming himself, and lot’s of other drunken messes who were singing along, but didn’t actually know any of the words. Being up this close, it seemed the band didn’t know a lot of the words either. He played a good fake out, but “As Bono” didn’t fool me. Being a dedicated U2 fan for almost the entirety of my life, I do actually know the words, so I’m not easily tricked by mumbles and snippets of songs that “Actual Bono” likes to throw into their live stage show. Impressive as it is that “As Bono” actually knows those snippets, he should first learn the proper words. It’s important. Other than that, we enjoyed our time with “As Bono”, and he became a fixture of conversation throughout the evening, next day and probably a lot of our future conversations as well. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We finally got to implement the use of Iwona (pronounced Ivana) Fister at Kell’s as well. Unfortunately it wasn’t with “As Bono”, but it was with a fellow named David – actual name for once! I wasn’t there for the initial presentation, but I was told it went down like this:</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>My sister doing the introduction of LM</b>: This is Iwona Fister</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>Kathy</b>: It’s spelt I-W-O-N-A. It’s Russian</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>David</b>: Your last name is Fister?</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Exactly. After David told us about what kind of car he drove (?) and took a picture with us on his phone from 1997, we were ready to eject ourselves from Kell’s and meet up with our friends Mo and Em for drinks, and hopefully some dancing. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Good thing our new friends knew exactly what we needed at this point – dancing and lots of it. They took us to an awesome gay bar called <a href="http://www.ccslaughterspdx.com/"><b>CC Slaughters</b></a>, where the drinks were cheap, bartenders were few and kind of mean and everyone had the time of their lives. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We also had the pleasure of running into Deb part 2, aptly named Jennifer, who worked in forestry and did not have the nails to prove it. Jennifer had french manicured tips with lots of sparkle, and was wearing a sassy black velvet number to go with them. The only way to celebrate this was to buy him/her a jello shot. And that we did. Along with everyone else in the lineup for drinks. They were $2; I mean they were pretty much giving them away with that price. You couldn’t not buy 1 – 10 of them. After the jello shots, things got silly. There was an excessive amount of boob grabs, we finally confirmed all of our questions about fisting, we were told to take our shirts off on the dance floor numerous times, there was a Gaga, Britney, Ke$ha dance explosion and plenty of gay boyfriends made. It was almost too much fun. Almost. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Because we forgot to eat dinner, we were suddenly hit with a wave of the vomits and needed to leave stat. We sadly said goodbye to our new friends, but I have a sneaking suspicion we will see them again. This time around when we left we finally got a cab driver that wanted us to have food after the bar, and though he had really good intentions, the place where he dropped us off was a little bit of an odd choice. It was called La Merde, and it wasn’t really a place for drunk people. It was a place for people who probably wanted to eat in peace, but were now not allowed too due to us being there. For some reason they seated us right next to some poor couple, but then again maybe they weren’t that sad about it as they did ask us if we wanted to go to the strippers with them when they were leaving. Why would a guy and a girl presumably on a date want 4 girls to hit the strippers with them? Prostitution ring. I know it!</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I also felt sorry for our poor waiter because he too was called HEY YOU, and when he asked Kathy what she wanted to order she said “Do you have McDonald’s cheeseburgers on the menu?” HEY YOU of course says no, and Kathy says “Okay. I’m good then”. And went back to drinking her water right out of the pitcher. We on the other hand shared a delicious bowl of macaroni and cheese, which LM did not want anything to do with until it came to the table and then proceeded to eat most of it. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Throwing some money down for our bill, we asked HEY YOU where the nearest McDonald’s was so Kathy could get her cheeseburger fix, like as if he told us a street we’d all of a sudden be experts on where things were in Portland. He didn’t really know, surprise surprise, but he did call us a cab that took us on an $18 adventure to find the one lonely McD’s in the downtown area, patiently waited in the drive thru with us while Kathy decided on not 6, but 8 cheeseburgers. I’m going to tell you that we didn’t need those 8 cheeseburgers, but they definitely got added to our food collection. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">To say that this day/night was epic would be true. It was. Once we arrived back at the hotel we had a pretty long discussion on “As Bono” and what we thought he was doing at that exact moment, and what we thought Windbreaker was doing at “Mansion”. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">As it turns out we would find out one of those answers the next day....</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And scene.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00533729314050239514noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787604376544779327.post-31601207128683061592011-03-21T19:10:00.000-07:002011-03-22T17:35:40.471-07:00Portland - Put a bird on it<m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent> </m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">**Please note that names have been changed because: </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">A) privacy blah, blah, blah and, </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">B) no one could remember them**</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">This past weekend we embarked on a mission to Portland that started in a McDonald’s parking lot, and we would soon learn that it would come full circle and end there as well. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Four lovely ladies were traveling down - my sister, my partner in crime LM, her sister in law and of course, me. Both sisters are married, but they were more than happy to be involved in the formation of this weekend’s blog post. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">We kicked off the road trip by picking up some Timmy Ho’s coffee and lacing it with Bailey’s…the time? 8 am. Not wanting to mix drinks in the Timmy’s parking lot, it’s too classy for that, we decided to move on over the McD’s and do it there. I’m almost positive that Ronald approves of mixed drinks in the morning, but Sidney Crosby most likely does not. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Drinks secured, we were off to the USA. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Our first point of interest was the epic Wal-Mart in Mount Vernon, Washington. Obviously we needed some road pops and other various fattening snacks for the trip, so the only place to do this without having to get the Costco size year’s supply of everything is the Mart. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">$70 later we had 5 bottles of wine, 12 beers, a cooler bag, ice, pretzel M&M’s and a huge bag of beef jerky. Little did we know this would just be the start of a collection of fine foods we gathered this weekend. And guess what else? Those beers had to be replaced just a few hours later. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Cracking our first beer at 10 am and throwing on the magical 1995 – 1999 inclusive playlist that I made, we were on our way once again. In case you were wondering, the playlist’s name is Semi Charmed Kind of Life, so just from that you can probably guess what kind of treats were on there. It was a little bit awesome and a little bit depressing all at the same time. What were we thinking back then in the later years of the 90’s?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Consumed with that question, we cruised into Seattle for some breakfast at the very delicious <b><a href="http://www.chowfoods.com/five/">5 Spot</a></b> restaurant in the Queen Anne area of town.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">This is also where we got into the third beer of the morning. Everybody’s food was fabulous, I was told the corn cakes were mad delicious and the hash browns are out of this world. The perfect amount of crispiness and also a little spicy. Yum. The seasonal beer that we probably didn’t need was also quite tasty. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Look this place up if you’re in town, you won’t be disappointed. They change the menu and décor monthly, highlighting different regions of the USA. This time around we were taken to Kansas, and I can tell you that I thoroughly enjoyed the giant paper mache tornado; it must have taken someone a long ass time to make that. They also have late night menu specials, all for $5.55 and $1.11 PBR’s after 10pm. It would be rude if you didn’t indulge in either of these things. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Bellies satisfied we were off again, and this is where all the fun started and from there, never ended. We first had to make a shady deal in Olympia – my sister had purchased U2 tickets off of Craigslist and we had to meet the guy, his name will be JJ, down there to make the exchange. Everyone knows how this could have turned out, but thankfully my sister had been conversing with JJ’s girlfriend for a week or two now and everything seemed as though it would work out for the best. Meaning, no one would get sold into a prostitution ring or be murdered in one of the many scary looking trailers we saw on our drive that day. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">On route to meet JJ we had polished off the rest of our beer, so thankfully we were meeting him at an AM/PM so we could pick up more and make yet another bathroom stop. One of the highlights for this portion of the day (beside’s the playlist) was that a Culligan water delivery man took the time to write out a note on a sticky pad to tell us that one of our tires was low. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">That took a lot of dedication because he was driving like 120 and where in god’s name did he find that sharpie and pad in such a hurry? Thanks Culligan Man, you probably saved our lives. The funny thing about that is this wasn’t the first time someone’s live would be saved on this day. More on that later. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Finally arriving at the AM/PM, there was JJ and boy was he in for a real treat. We were pretty loud and obnoxious at this point, but not enough that JJ didn’t want to join us for the rest of our trip. Not only did he provide us concert tickets, he was kind enough to deal with the missing air in our tire situation. Though when we first pulled up and got out of the car we may have said to him “You’re going to need to put air into our tire, it’s low. Nice to meet you by the way”. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">New beers secured as well as a garbage bag for our stupid leaky cooler bag – Thanks A LOT Wal-Mart – we were ready to rock again. We said our goodbyes to JJ</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Finally after more bathroom stops, a playlist change, scary statues and being mesmerized by the half train for what seemed like the entire length of Washington – So many questions about this. Why did it look like it’s sliced right in half? Why is it still on the tracks? How long has it been there? – We made it into Portland. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">We were staying at the <a href="http://hotelmodera.com/"><b>Hotel Modera</b></a>; it was in the downtown area, NOT over the elusive bridge that people would later keep telling us everything else was over. It seemed promising and it had a great looking fire pit that you could sit and have drinks at, though it would be best used in the summer months. Fire and rain should usually just be saved for James Taylor. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Our room was also lovely, bonus points for the furry throw blankets on the bed that would very much come in handy for the next night when people were simultaneously freezing and wanting to barf. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">We had made the executive decision earlier that we should get right to business, which meant getting ready, throwing back 3 bottles of wine and going out for dinner. Surprisingly this went a lot faster than you would think. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Having already looked up some places to go, we had an idea of what we wanted to do but thought we would ask the hotel staff what their recommendations were. Boy was this the wrong avenue to go down. Here is where we would learn the first bad thing about Portland. DO NOT ask anyone where to go for pretty much anything, nor for the directions on how to get there. They don’t know. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">First we asked the girls at the front desk where they would go for dinner and drinks. Nothing. Just a lot of umms, ahhhs, just go down this street…what street? Which way? Where abouts? Remember when we booked this room because we’re not fucking from here? And the infamous “I’m not really sure where that is”. Okay, thanks. Super helpful. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Next we asked the door guys where we should go. We told them we were thinking of <a href="http://www.saucebox.com/"><b>Saucebox</b></a>, a sushi restaurant that was also a lounge that I had researched, and they agreed, but also brought up a few places that would be the beginning of “it’s just over the bridge”. Not wanting to figure out which of the 75 bridges they were talking about, we decided to give Saucebox a go. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">This is where we met the world’s worst cab driver. He was probably one of the angriest people I have ever had the pleasure of coming across and you know what else? He didn’t know where anything was. So now that makes for three different kinds of people in Portland who didn’t know where anything was, but they sure should have. It’s kind of in their job requirements. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">He definitely didn’t want to converse about his day, or smile, or do any of the other things that cabbies usually need to do. Things got heated pretty quickly, and when he dropped us off there was the always amazing throwing back of money used to pay for the shitty cab ride and a lovely exchange of words that ended with “get the fuck out of my cab you fucking bitch”. This transaction led us to the start of people in the city of Portland who would hate my fellow man hunter LM. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Saucebox was pretty busy when we got there, so it seemed like so far so good on the recommendation I made to myself no thanks to the staff of Hotel Modera. We were seated right away and here’s where we were about to meet the some of the few people who knew where the fun was at in Portland – our new same sex friends Mo and Em, and Luke the waiter. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The lovely ladies that we were sat down next to were actually on their way out, but we stopped them to ask where they thought we should go to find the men of Portland. They played for the other team, but they were a wealth of knowledge on where to go! Obviously they need to know these things as those are the places they <b>don’t</b> want to go to. The less penis the better.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">They told us about an Irish pub called Kell’s which I had also looked up, and that we were already going to check out the next night so good for us, and then rambled off a bunch of other places that I don’t remember. They were intrigued by our man hunt and there was an exchange of numbers so we could have some drinks the next night to find out if we were successful on our mission. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">This is kind of what always happens when we go away, we find the gays and they know where to go. Its simple enough math I think. And it’s never a bad time. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">After enjoying a few more bottles of wine, sushi, tapioca dumplings and the badly named Pu Pu platter, we decided to try our hand at again asking a staff member in Portland where they thought we should go out that night. This is where Luke came in. Though Luke was with us the whole time catering to our wine needs, shooter demands and answering to the name HEY YOU from LM who was quickly deteriorating before our very eyes, this was really were he was most helpful. He gave us a few suggestions, though none of them were more offensive then Dante’s as we would find out the next day after walking by this establishment and demanding to know why Luke would want to send us there, he did tell us about the Nines. And this place was actually exactly what we were looking for. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">We paid our ridiculously cheap bill and headed over to <a href="http://www.starwoodhotels.com/luxury/property/overview/index.html?propertyID=1757"><b>The Nines</b></a>, a hotel that was also in the downtown area next to Pioneer Square, which featured the rooftop restaurant/lounge <a href="http://departureportland.com/"><b>Departure</b></a> that we were going to attend. Arriving at The Nines involved a comical walk that included the takeover of someone’s reservation desk outside of a hotel, which the porter Anthony did not think was funny. Anthony did not like jokes. Just another person to add to the list of people in Portland who hated my friend. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">It was a pretty excellent lounge, though we were soon worried that they had the same music mix as the Cactus Club. We grabbed a booth next to the DJ, which he soon regretted as we barraged him with questions and threats about what kind of music he was going to play. He also didn’t enjoy LM sitting in his area and wanting to touch all of his equipment. Guess what? We had to add him to the growing list of haters.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Turns out though, he was a pretty good DJ, tossing out R&B gems from the past and present. This is where I met my two R&B soul mates, Carl – totally not his name - a lovely fellow from Calgary (weird I know) who kindly put up with my yell singing lyrics into his face all night and Angel – also not her name, but that’s what she was – who was sadly ripped from my grasp after our Regulators sing off tribute to Nate Dogg, by her evil friends who clearly didn’t want us to hang out and be friends forever. A super angry friend rolled up to our table and said “We’re going” to Angel and not in a nice way at all. And here’s the thing. They didn’t leave, just moved a few feet away from us and continued about their business. Why? </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">And that was just the start of the series of weird shit that was about to go down. Blame it on the alcohol, blame it on the <span id="goog_1717327005"></span>Supermoon<span id="goog_1717327006"></span>, but it was about to get funky. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The lounge was bumpin’ and had pretty much the same clientele that we get in Vancouver… you know - dads, douches and the like, but Vancouver had nothing on the dude we were just about to get introduced to. The guy that changed our whole weekend. He provided us with some amazing comedic conversations, laughs and memories that will probably last for the rest of this year, maybe even our lives. I know what you’re thinking, this sounds awesome, finally you found the guy. Oh did we ever. But what you don’t know is that all of this entertainment? It was at his expense. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Here’s where Windbreaker comes in. Since no one could remember his name, he got dubbed with Windbreaker because that’s what he chose to wear to the bar that night. Not sure if he just finished a round of golf or if it was a nod to his love of sailing, but it seemed like an odd choice of bar clothes. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">He was smug, he was ridiculous and he was exclusively drinking champagne which made me introduce myself to him with the kindly toned “Hi. You’re not seriously drinking champagne in here right now are you?” Well he was and sadly enough, later on I did as well. This was something that we all regretted the next day, as we’re pretty certain it was a vintage bottle of Baby Duck circa 1994. Awful. I may never get the taste out of my mouth. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Windbreaker soon latched on to LM, who didn’t really even know her name at this point in the night, so we weren’t about to find out his name anytime soon. Had he not made my sister so ill with his douchebaggery that she had to send herself back to the hotel, we probably would have known. All we really knew was that he was apparently a DJ and that he liked shitty champagne. He also had with him a friend, we’ll call her Adrienne, that looked like tweaking was her profession and was the second life that was going to be saved on this day. For some reason LM and her sister in law ‘Kathy” got dragged into the bathroom with her where she A) wanted to put makeup on Kathy and B) wanted them to do drugs with her. Neither of these things sounded appealing to them, so Kathy booked it back to the table and LM pulled Adrienne into an after school special conversation for a lesson on drugs, which then prompted her to come out proclaiming that she was a life saver. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">I’m going to go ahead and guess that Adrienne did indeed do drugs that night. I know this because when we were getting ready to leave she told us “You guys better settle your bill or you are not getting any drugs!” Hmmm. Weird options, but I think I’ll go with paying my bill and getting the fuck out of this looney bin of a lounge. Aside from Carl and Angel, it was getting kind of scary in there. We were also dying of hunger at this point, the PuPu platter was not holding up our 12 plus hours of drinking any longer. The only thing that could soak up some of this booze was pizza. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Don’t worry; we didn’t leave without getting Windbreakers info, that was imperative. So BBM pins exchange, we piled into yet another angry taxi and attempted to hunt down the after bar tasty treat of cheese, sauce and bread. Forgetting that no one in Portland knows where anything is, I don’t know why we thought the cab driver this time around would be any different. We asked to get pizza and he clearly heard “Drive us down to China town, stop down a random road, point and say over there, get out”. I don’t even get out in China town in my own city, so I didn’t think that Portland should be the place to start this tradition. So back to the hotel we went and were hoping that perhaps the front desk would at least be able find us pizza in this god forsaken town. They weren’t stoked about it that’s for sure, probably because our piercing voices weren`t the best, soon to be confirmed by my poor sleeping sister who had to deal with our drunken shenanigans when we got up to the room. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Not really sure what happened between the lobby and the room, but once they called up and told us the pizza would be 45 minutes, the whole thing was called off. Instead we talked about it on volume 100 for the next 45 minutes. And poutine. That was talked about as well. And Windbreakers general ridiculousness. Who called at 3 in the morning. Unfortunately for us we were asleep. But we would soon find out that this would not be the end of him. Or all the fun we were having. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Tomorrow was another day after all….</span></div>prettystarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05646389463676250275noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787604376544779327.post-77951164213051916422011-03-21T12:25:00.000-07:002011-03-22T17:44:14.109-07:001001 Nights<m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent> </m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Because one night out clearly wasn’t enough, we decided over a much needed greasy breakfast courtesy of the <b>Slocan Family Restaurant</b> that we should venture out to 100 Nights at the Opus Hotel. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Having heard a few people sing it’s “there’s lots of men” there praises, I figured what the hell, I can have a nap and do this all over again right? Yes a nap is sad but necessary because partying like you’re in your 20’s isn’t as easy as it used to be. This whole getting old thing? Not cool or thoughtful. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">After my refreshing nap, we decided on the <a href="http://www.cactusclubcafe.com/"><b>Cactus Club</b></a> in Yaletown, seeing as we would just have to walk across the road to <a href="http://onehundrednights.ca/"><b>100 Nights</b></a>. And let me tell you after dancing like we’ve never danced before the previous evening, this short walk was a blessing. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Now is it me, or is 100 Nights an awful name for a lounge? No one seems to be able to actually say the name right, I’ve heard it called 100 Days of Night, 1001 Nights, 1000 Days...so note to self when opening a lounge or club, try to steer clear of numbers. Apparently it confuses the shit out of people. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">We soon arrive at the Cactus Club and thanks to some fellows who could actually answer the question “are you guys leaving” with a proper answer – to the other people we asked, it’s not that hard to do, a simple YES or NO usually suffices - we acquired one of the rare lounge booths. These booths are extremely hard to come by because everyone wants in on the prime lounge seating, as they’re the best place to check people out in a creepy, I can see you but you can’t really see me kind of manner. Also it’s no secret that <a href="http://www.linden16.com/home">Trevor Linden</a> likes to frequent this particular Cactus Club lounge, so going there and banking on a TL sighting is a much added bonus. Yah we’ve seen him there before. No big deal. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">So lounge booth secured and armed with yet another vodka drink, we scouted the room. Now I’ve been to this particular CC many a time, in fact it was host to one of the most random nights I’ve ever had in my life, complete with one of the staff members having to run out and get another bottle of Dom because the apparent ballers we just met cleared them out of the one bottle that they did have. Tell me, if you only have one bottle, why is it even on the menu? Does a person really need to order this? They probably don’t, but you bet your ass I’ll drink if it’s put in front of me. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Upon careful consideration, it was clear to me that there were hot men here. How had I not noticed this before? Was Trevor Linden clouding my judgment? And as luck would have it we weren’t the only ones who knew this, because it was pretty good ratio of women to men in there. But we can’t begrudge these women of this, once you find the men you must keep coming back to see if there are more! Perhaps this was the location we’ve been looking for all this time. </span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">So while enjoying the eye candy, and our delicious meals – pesto chicken quesadillas and the Creole chicken </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-_O7J6guZnSs/TYlB-MWz7OI/AAAAAAAAACA/X5X96QKQrmU/s1600/dsc06451.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-_O7J6guZnSs/TYlB-MWz7OI/AAAAAAAAACA/X5X96QKQrmU/s320/dsc06451.jpg" width="320" /></a></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">are just divine – we did notice that there was one thing bringing our moods down. The music. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">IT. IS. HORRIBLE!!!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Thinking back I do believe this is probably why we didn’t attempt to speak to any of these good looking guys, as we were too distracted by the sounds of ambient bass grooves that were raping our ears. It was truly bringing us down, why, WHY must restaurants play the same kind of variations of music over and over and over again? I’m begging you, just throw one song on with actual words in it in between the house music mega mix, volume 12. Please and thanks. Talk about ruining the mood, because that is exactly what happened. Much like a whiskey dick, this music wasn’t doing anyone any favours. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Because the music was making me homicidal and someone else had told us to head to 100 Nights before 11, we decided that it was time to stroll on over to our next venue.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">We’ll be back to this lounge, because it is really, really good for people watching, hot men ogling, and I imagine (or I’m praying) the music isn’t mind numbingly terrible all the time. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Now here’s where I was reminded that I’m clearly not cool enough for Yaletown. We walk up to 100 Nights and the doorman tells my friend that they are only letting people in that have reservations. She then tells him “I’m confused because I was just here last week and I’m pretty sure we walked right in”. This statement is double confirmed by another friend of ours who was on route to meet us, as she too was also there previously and walked right in. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Well apparently this was not our night to shine, these bouncers were having none of it, and we were quickly cast away like the peasants that we are. Fine then Yaletown. You win this round. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Ultimately we decided that we were pretty exhausted from the night before (it was a big one okay!), so we had one last night cap at <a href="http://www.joeyrestaurants.com/"><b>Joey’s on Burrard</b></a>...the OTHER one this time and then walked down to Granville to await our ride. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Thank god we did, because this is where all the magic happened. Three amazing and magical things: There was the casual ass grab, to which when my friend asked “did you seriously just grab my ass” and the guy said “yes, yes I did” and just as casually walked away. There were the sightings of many, many a girl in a shirt no pants combo, some of who were barfing on the sidewalk next to the Roxy, tits down and ass up. And finally the amazing double finger salute from a I’m guessing 16 year old who asked us if we wanted to go home to smoke pot and make out with him and our answer to this was laughing in his face, hence the double finger. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">What a great end to a night full of laughs and fingers crossed on what happens further on the discovery of where some of the hot men are hiding in this city. Until next time!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>prettystarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05646389463676250275noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787604376544779327.post-21184598844989108022011-03-21T12:24:00.000-07:002011-03-22T17:51:53.903-07:00It's dental, it's mental<m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent> </m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">This week we had some friends in town from Calgary, they were here for the annual dental convention that happens every spring, and they were ready to party. No stranger to the convention ourselves, we have attended for the last four years with our friends, albeit more as party crashers than anything else. The only thing that I knew about teeth was that I broke mine in a fight with the dance floor during one of my finer moments at <a href="http://www.cabowabocantina.com/"><b>Cabo Wabo</b></a>. What I did know for sure is that it would be a ridiculous amount of fun and make for a great story. I was not wrong. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">We met up with our friend and for privacy’s sake we’ll call him Dr. Dance, at the <a href="http://www.fairmont.com/pacificrim/GuestServices/Restaurants/LobbyLoungeandPatio.htm"><b>Fairmont Pacific Rim lounge</b></a>. If you are looking for perhaps the busiest place in Vancouver after 4pm, this might be it. It might have been to due to the fact that almost every convention in the western hemisphere was being held in Vancouver this particular weekend, but damn the place was hopping. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">If I were going to make a pie chart of how this evening was going to play out, I would say that my night would be 90% focused on hanging out with dear Dr. Dance because I only get to see him once and year, and the other 10% to be used for scouting the talent. We were only at the PR lounge for a quick drink, and when I say quick I mean that I had to chug the last little bit of my wine, though I’m not going to lie this wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done that and it certainly won’t be the last. However I will definitely be back to give the lounge another go, hotel lounges are always a melting pot of business men and out of towners, plus as an added bonus there was an amazing acoustic musician providing the soundtrack to people’s future hook ups, and I am sold on anything acoustic. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Which then leads us to the time of the night where we get our party crashing panties on. We depart for Dr. Dance’s annual University of Saskatchewan alumni party, an event we’ve now crashed for the past three years and I’m pretty sure for all of those three years we have repeatedly gotten the same foul looks from people year after year for crashing their “prestigious” event. Not one to let a foul look stop me from drinking free vodka, I have always fully supported the crashing of this party. Upon our arrival it seemed that Dr. Dance hardly knew any of the people there, so who’s to say they didn’t know that <i>I’m</i> not a dentist. I could own U Smile, I Smile Dentistry, and could also very well be Dr. Bieber. How would they ever know? The only disappointment here was that we didn’t sign the guest book...Dr. Bieber shall be back next year alumni committee!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The party was in full swing when we got there and thanks to Paul the bartender’s honesty and heavy handed pours, we were most definitely the funnest people in attendance. Score one for the class of 98 (our obvious year of graduation from dental school)! One thing that’s a guarantee with this event is that most of the men are married and the ones that aren’t are like 12 years old, as they are the most recent graduates. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">As previously mentioned, the only reason for going to this party is for the free booze and to apparently make it appear to other party goers that Dr. Dance has a harem. I had the joy of overhearing a gentleman asking him how he always has so many beautiful women surrounding him every year at this event. Score two for the class of 98! We were on a roll. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">We soon found out that Dr. Dance’s other friends ditched him to go to another party, which was pretty rude if you ask me, here I had thought we were all in this together. It seemed the only way to pay them back was to crash that party too. Yes we did. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The next part of the evening took us down to the <a href="http://www.donnellygroup.ca/lamplighter/"><b>Lamplighter</b></a>. Always a big hit for hockey games and frat boys, though only one of these two things could be found here this evening. I suppose the frat boys took the night off. Or maybe there wasn’t any room for them due to the hostile dental takeover. Side note – since when does it cost $6 or any amount of dollars to go to a pub on a Thursday night? Damn you <a href="http://www.donnellygroup.ca/"><b>Donnelly Group</b></a>, why do you have to own almost every bar in Vancouver, therefore making me give you all my money almost everywhere I go?! And willingly give it to you as well, because dammit, your pubs are good. Unfair.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">This is where the night starts to take a real turn for the worse, as we have only consumed vodka for dinner up to this point, with a tiny splash of cranberry juice. Just a splash! How many times did Paul the bartender have to hear that in the hour that we were at the other party... I wonder....</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Anywho, the Lamplighter is pretty foggy to me, but I do know there was extensive discussion on the sexiness of Dr. Dance’s room at the PRim. We made a brief stop in there and my gawd those rooms are fiiiine. Slip on some smooth jazz, take a bath in the ginormous tub and most likely get your groove on because that’s what those rooms were made for. However much of our discussion was aimed at the fact that Dr. Dance was sharing this sexified room with a fellow dental friend of his. Many distasteful jokes were made, but were in all in good fun I would say. Some others would not say this, but then again if you don’t like the joke – go home! </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">So the question is, where does one go after drinking almost a forty of vodka? The answer? <a href="http://www.roxyvan.com/"><b>The Roxy</b></a>. Never a let down, the Roxy was legendary amongst the dentists. They have proclaimed it the best bar in the world after all. And I’m not I disagree with them. Of what feels like about a million times being there, I can’t say I’ve ever had a bad time. This time around wasn’t any different. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">We danced for our lives that night and probably should have been dancing away from the creepy dudes that were surrounding us left ,right and center. I don’t know if there was a full moon out, but it sure seemed like it. The freaks come out at night? Yes, yes they do. More vodka drinks seemed to surround us too, it was almost like they were multiplying gremlin style. One of the creeps bought us all drinks, and even Dr. Dance had to declare “these drinks are for sure roofied”. So you can tell where this is going on the men front, and yes perhaps the Roxy isn’t the place to pick up men....or is it? </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Looks to me like it was, as my fellow man hunter scored her first number of the mission. Obviously we will go out for drinks to celebrate.... Haha. He was tall, blonde, had a Bieberish hair do and quite possibly could have been 22, but age aside went balls out by grabbing her hand and wisking her off to the dance floor. No introductions, no questioned asked, just the language of dance. Since he was so forward, we all assumed that she new young Bieber, but as luck would have it she did not. As it turns out the Biebs isn’t 22, but he IS definitely from Langley. Stay tuned on how that pans out, we hope to hear more on that after a date is setup. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">As for me, not wanting to let the Roxy down on its <a href="http://www.charliesheen.com/"><b>Charlie Sheen</b></a> #winning streak of picking up dudes, I would soon find out that dentists do indeed do it better. Now I’m not one to kiss and tell, but I will tell you this. There was a hotel room, a cameo from the dentist’s roommate and of course, a cab ride of shame at 3 in the morning to the other hotel where my friends were staying. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">To sum my thoughts on this evening, here is a demure text conversation between me and a friend of mine in Toronto the day after:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><b>Me</b>: I wonder how many different hotel rooms you and I have seen collectively.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><b>Her</b>: Haha. Too many</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Lovely. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">It was quiet a night. Many thanks to the dentists for another rockin’ year at the convention, to my friends for having that other room downtown, ghosts notwithstanding, and of course to the Roxy for keeping it real year after year. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">For my recommendations, I do not recommend drinking almost a forty of vodka to yourself, but I do recommend adding a splash of cranberry when you can. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Props also to the <a href="http://www.fairmont.com/hotelvancouver"><b>Hotel Vancouver</b></a> concierge for saving everyone’s lives the next morning and having that emergency pizza number on hand. I’m pretty sure it’s called Johnny’s and I’m pretty sure it was delicious. </span></div>prettystarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05646389463676250275noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787604376544779327.post-24305641041283103672011-03-21T12:22:00.000-07:002011-03-22T18:03:31.309-07:00Mexi-No<m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent> </m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Needing to escape the eastern Canada weather that was making a guest appearance on the West Coast that turned into a multi episode arc, it was time to pack our bags and head south of the border. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">This highly anticipated trip started out with a bit of a glitch seeing as the trip planner, an alleged friend of ours from Calgary, sent a text on the day we were leaving containing the most casual bow out of a vacation I’d ever seen or heard. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Before we get into that let’s rewind and get everyone up to speed on how this all came about. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">In January our “friend”, let’s call him Terry, got everyone on board to head down to <a href="http://www.givemebackmyfivebucks.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/04/playadelcarmen.jpg"><b>Playa Del Carmen</b></a>. Now we were pretty set on going to Cabo, as any place that is home to <a href="http://www.cabowabocantina.com/"><b>Cabo Wabo</b></a> is immediately awesome and having been there many times already, we know it and we love it. However, we were willing to give Playa a try if a group of people were going, who are supposedly fun. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">As we are not ones to be wishy washy about going on vacations, hotels were researched and flights were booked. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Fast forward to the middle of February. Terry still hasn’t booked his flight, but assures us he’s waiting for the best deal as he is using his Aeroplan miles. Fair enough. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Terry then talks a big game about going all inclusive golfing with my brother in law, how we were going to have such an awesome time, that there were tons of cheap food and beer to be had...note to readers, the next time someone boasts all of these things to you, tread lightly. They could be spinning you a web of lies.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Except for the cheap beer. Mexican Wal-Mart yo!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">This is where things start to get shady. It’s now a week before we leave and collectively we’ve all been trying to get a hold of Terry to see if he’s booked his flight. Do you think he responds? No he does not. Not to texts, not to emails, nada. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Finally it’s the day we leave. Time to cue up the most casual vacation cancellation via text message ever... <b>“Didn’t book a flight. Many apologies” </b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">What’s that now son? Come again? Just those two sentences were enough to cover the entirety of this fuckery? Yah it was super, super cool of you to plan this whole vacation and then not even go on it.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">I can’t even place enough WTF’s in here to explain just how furious this made me. I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that the one thing that pisses the majority of people off in this crazy thing we call life are people who bail out of shit at the last minute. In the immortal words of Jennifer Aniston – Uncool. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Hey Terry? You suck at life. Catch you on the flip side. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">So with the bitter taste of bad friend in our mouths, I sent that message to text heaven and we were off to Playa Del Carmen and we were going to make the best of it. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">And that we did. But I bet you’re wondering what the man scoop is, as that’s what this is all about after all! Well hold on to your hats, because it’s about to get real. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Going into this one would think that Mexico would filled to the tits with men, as it is vacation season after all and everyone knows what happens to people when they go on vacation. Much like Poison, they want action. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">And usually Mexico is the perfect place to engage in this Russian roulette game of future STD’s and unwanted pregnancies. But nay. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">On our first venture out into Playa things seemed potentially good, or maybe that was the Sol infused with lime and salt (why) altering our perception as well as our bellies. Side note – salt is not sexy. True story. Through closer inspection it appeared that what seemed like a ton of men around soon turned out to be a ton of men hunting for other men. What we did not know about Playa, but learned about a week too late was that it was home to one of the biggest gay communities on the East Coast. On top of that, not only did we have dude on dude all around us, the other key element making single people here a minority was couples. They were everywhere!!!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">There they were strolling down 5<sup>th</sup> in the most awkward walking situations I’ve ever seen, more like a wrestling submission hold than a hand hold. They were doing some glorious face touching and same side of the table eating next to us at dinners. They were rubbing down each others bodies and naked old lady boobs at the beach, not to mention one couple that added a skin crawling bonus by doing some finger bang pantomiming. To sum it up, this week was doomed for any chance of meeting a single man. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Double fingering the sky and cursing Terry’s name, clearly the only way to make up for the lack of men and not feel like the only single person in Playa was to drink my weight in margaritas and do an inhuman amount of tequila shots. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">To condense the week, here are some of the highlights: right of the bat I received an amazing forehead sunburn once again, most likely sealing the fate of my future health, deciding that we needed to kill our terrible case of lime and salt beer in one night, the introduction of the <a href="http://www.criminalmindsfanwiki.com/"><b>Criminal Minds</b></a> drinking game which turned out to be a bad idea, creamy tequila shots in the flavors of strawberry and mango do not feel good after the 15<sup>th</sup> use of the word <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Unsub"><b>UNSUB</b></a>. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Tasting almost every variation that Playa had to offer of the lime margarita, finding the perfect substitute taco to mend our broken Taco Loco hearts - We love you Cabo, sorry we cheated on you! – perfecting a signature dance that can be altered for any type of song, you only need to use you arms, so I suppose it’s more of a seated dance than anything. Hilarity definitely ensued. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The introduction of the hipster glasses that are sure to be used many more times this year, finding out that wine really can save your life, the sightings of more than one tattoo of a double dolphin jumping over the moon, ocean, sun, etc and declaring everyday to get one ourselves after all the tequila we drank kicked in. And last but not least, teaching the fine art of shot gunning to the locals with many thanks to Scott and Kale from Calgary. We had a blasty blast that day, and yes the <a href="http://www.google.ca/imgres?imgurl=http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dmH3VV9fBXE/SfeYrNXQHhI/AAAAAAAAAQo/mP-GXwyZ2WM/s400/FlamesSUCK.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.supradistribution.com/blog/2009/04/&usg=__6-NsJMtKUdaQXkLmZ4CvBVq6RSA=&h=346&w=400&sz=26&hl=en&start=0&sig2=BkqkP6DYlvRbdIHEVMvdTQ&zoom=1&tbnid=cb2wI276dfPblM:&tbnh=134&tbnw=155&ei=e0aJTdjfHI_svQPp4f3ODg&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dcalgary%2Bflames%2Bsuck%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dfirefox-a%26sa%3DN%26rls%3Dorg.mozilla:en-US:official%26biw%3D1360%26bih%3D580%26tbm%3Disch&um=1&itbs=1&iact=hc&vpx=127&vpy=70&dur=1184&hovh=209&hovw=241&tx=68&ty=228&oei=L0aJTbueB4yesQOB-cX6Cw&page=1&ndsp=22&ved=1t:429,r:0,s:0">Flames still suck</a>! </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">I’m going to say that there was much more, but my mind just isn’t what it used to be my friends. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">We definitely had a lovely time, it was nice to finally see the sun, and the salt water always does great things to your hair for that I just rolled out of bed look, though I guess that was a waste. I hope that the gays enjoyed it at least! </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Can’t say that I would return to Playa, but as usual there are two recommendations – lime margaritas make everyone’s life better, and there are no lack of good ones there, and we had the single most delicious fish tacos in our lives there as well. If I could remember the name of the place everyone would win here, but alas I cannot. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">As for the conclusion to the Terry story, it might be possible that he has alztimers as just last night I got another way too cash text, 3 words, all of them sending my irritation level to infinity and beyond. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Drum roll please... <b><span style="color: navy;">“</span>how was playa”<span style="color: navy;">.</span></b> That’s it. No capitals, no punctuation necessary. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">It must be nice live in a world where not much else matters except being drunk and pretending you didn’t book vacations to go on. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Word.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</style> <![endif]--> <div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Not one to give up easily on an establishment with delightful drinks and fairly good lounges, we decided to give Joey’s another go, just at a different location. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">This is where Joey’s on Lougheed comes in. Again, not to be confused with the <i>other</i> Joey’s on Lougheed...why are there so many of these places in such close proximity to each other? That’s a question for another day I suppose. <span> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">This particular Joey’s is in Burnaby, or BBY if you will. We chose it due to the fact that it was 5 minutes away from our collective work places and the fact that not even a week in, we were craving those sliders like they were going out of style. So much so that it was effecting my work day. I needed these things in my life and I needed them stat. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">If you don’t know what slider’s are here’s what you need to know... They are three mini burgers with the perfect amount of accessories on them and the softest bun you have ever had in your life, and most likely your mouth. If a burger bun could be a cloud, this one is it. Am I ashamed of my passionate description of the slider? Not. One. Bit.<span> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Once I came out of my slider haze I took a good hard look around the room. It was mostly dudes and it was quite a mixed bag. Hobbit sized dudes, the ever present douche bags and old men, colleagues and associates, cougars, and potentially good looking bearded guys. <span> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">We were only there for a short stint due to exhaustion (too much brain power used on fantasizing about those sliders perhaps?) and the fact that American Idol was on at 8. Judge if you will, but JLo is super pretty in HD. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">We made the executive decision to return on a Thursday or Friday after work and see what kind of man offerings Joey’s has for us on those days. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">It wasn’t bad, it wasn’t great however, and this might be the sliders talking, but I think it could be a potential gold mine. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Another highlight? The discovery of the spiked lemonade. I imagine that having a handful of these would be like a punch to the face and a party in your pants. I highly recommend them. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Thanks again Joey’s. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div></m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac>prettystarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05646389463676250275noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787604376544779327.post-3634876913424350172011-03-21T12:19:00.000-07:002011-03-22T19:16:56.298-07:00Out with the old and in with the old<m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent> </m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">While out with a friend of ours discussing project Good Guy, she threw out the suggestion to check out <a href="http://www.joeyrestaurants.com/"><b>Joey’s in Bentall One</b></a> on Burrard. Not to be confused with <a href="http://www.joeyrestaurants.com/"><b>Joey’s on Burrard</b></a>.... Yes. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">I had heard this place mentioned before for ladies who are going out trolling, as it had potential to be a mini metropolis of men seeing as there’s a clusterfuck of office towers around this particular area of Vancouver. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">After assessing all the information we decided to venture out into the office tower jungle. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Upon entry and doing a quick survey of the room something seemed very suspicious. I had a sinking feeling that something was amiss...and then it hit me...OLD MEN! </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Yes, there they were in all their glory, a literal bonanza of business suits and finger guns a blazin. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Question – if you are a young lady waitressing in a bar/pub/restaurant, is it awesome to have your dad and his friends undressing you with their eyes for your entire shift? </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">I know, I know, they tip enough to keep you clothed and fed for the next decade, but you must want to shower a multitude of times when you get home. Shame shower. We’ve all been there. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">As the night wore on, we realized that the clientele wasn’t getting any younger and neither were we. This brings us to the hilarious cameo of a young gentlemen who I’m sure was some higher ups legal assistant but in his mind is “the guy behind the guy”, who had a walk that was half gangster rap, half 80’s wrestling intro. But wait there’s more. Not only did he have the walk, he had a dude tailing him who bore a striking resemble and possibly had the same job requirements as Turtle from Entourage. If I was able to ever stop laughing I would have felt a little bit sorry for him. Turtle that is. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">After vowing to never again take suggestions on places to find men from our so called friend, we decided to quiz our waitress to find out the real scoop on this place. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Our waitress was a lovely young lady who had recently moved here from Calgary and through talking to her we discovered that she too had the same struggles of where to find men in Vancouver and this is where she dropped the bomb on us. And not the good R&B kind. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The bomb being that the influx of old men around us? Yah they were the regulars.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">No younger men to be had here, at least not often enough to make anyone shout “come here this place is crawling with available youngish men!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">And that was that. We thanked the waitress for her honesty and she wished us well on our journey and advised us to come back if we ever find the holy grail of men. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">High point</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> of the night? On our way out we were pleased to see that Gangster Walk and Turtle were tucking into a bottle of white wine together. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">It doesn’t get better than that. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The two important things I learned about Joey’s that night? – vodka Supernovas and <b>sliders</b>.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-1GMZzDsJNmo/TYlYEGr2CtI/AAAAAAAAACE/A67JwuAOaPU/s1600/3693504816_90d65b3e23.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-1GMZzDsJNmo/TYlYEGr2CtI/AAAAAAAAACE/A67JwuAOaPU/s320/3693504816_90d65b3e23.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Your mouth doesn’t know what it’s missing. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>prettystarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05646389463676250275noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787604376544779327.post-34795763983245732122011-03-21T12:16:00.000-07:002011-03-22T19:32:38.353-07:00What would Brian Wilson do?<m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent> </m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">This was not our finest night to meet men, as it was filled with drunken shenanigans, but a fun story to tell regardless. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Since there was an impending dinner reservation in the evening, we figured what better way to get ready for that than having pre drinks. Am I right? Right. To get the job done we chose the <a href="http://www.cactusclubcafe.com/">Cactus Club</a> in White Rock. It has a pretty excellent lounge, though the downside is that it’s usually ridden with douche bags and the girls who buy drugs from them, but luckily for us we were early enough to avoid this. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">How is this possible you ask? Because there are not many douches that have actual real jobs to get to, they are usually out and about in lounges at all times of the day. Douche knows no time. But as we all know from watching Jersey Shore once or twice (you know you’ve done it while nursing a hangover) it takes a good chunk of their day for them to get ready, so going anywhere outside the realm of 8 pm is a pretty tight squeeze. Plus after you go to a lounge, you must then attend a bar and as I’ve been told by many a douche and douche hangers on, no one goes to a bar before 10....but I digress. Back to the story.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">I definitely think the afternoon crowd has potential, but due to a dip fiasco and early drunkenness fueled by two bottles of wine guzzled in record time, my brain wasn’t entirely focused on the task at hand. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">We shall be back Cactus Club! And for the food update the <b>Goat Cheese & Feta Flatbread</b> is NOT a substitute for dip, but it is indeed delicious. Try it with a side of parm dip, it might just blow your mind. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-0AIYxmgbfBI/TYlY7pzPRvI/AAAAAAAAACI/vHroegoL00s/s1600/Picture-011-287x430.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-0AIYxmgbfBI/TYlY7pzPRvI/AAAAAAAAACI/vHroegoL00s/s320/Picture-011-287x430.jpg" width="213" /></a></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Let’s also toss out a fist pump for the Brazilian. Who knew muddled kiwi’s could be so tasty. </span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-1FhK1V1Nbqs/TYlZIIA7M8I/AAAAAAAAACM/JGGa6RC9UP0/s1600/470_bc_low_alcohol_101019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-1FhK1V1Nbqs/TYlZIIA7M8I/AAAAAAAAACM/JGGa6RC9UP0/s320/470_bc_low_alcohol_101019.jpg" width="320" /></a></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">That brings us to our next stop, the <a href="http://www.washingtonavenuegrill.com/"><b>Washington Avenue Grill</b></a> on White Rock beach. A supposed haunted old house, we would soon find out just exactly what it was haunted with....old men.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">As soon as we entered we were accosted by said old men. And when I say men I mean just that, because there wasn’t just one. It was all downhill from there. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Between the being asked to dance, being gestured over to a table to hear the vomit inducing line “I knew I could make you cum with one finger”, and being given roses like we were contestants on the Bachelor, the night soon turned into the train wreck it was destined to be after four bottles of wine.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">So no men here, but would be a really great spot to take a date once anyone finally gets one. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The food? Outstanding. The martinis? Double outstanding. They must have been good seeing as we were drinking them like shots.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Special shout out and high fives to Tristan for putting up with our shit. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">So how does one end a night filled with future Hugh Hefners and enough booze to kill a horse? There’s only one answer for this. Karaoke. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Thanks to <a href="http://www.sandpiperpub.net/"><b>The Sandpiper Pub</b></a> down the road from the WAG, our prayers were answered. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Though the details are blurry, here are some things I know for sure: that there was an intense sing a long to Brian Wilson, that I’m almost positive I might not have heard since the 90’s which upped it’s intenseness quota, the ripping of a microphone out of someone’s hand because they weren’t doing Teenage Dream justice, being witness to a mild dance floor raping from a cougar on a poor unfortunate young man, only to then have said cougar kiss her equally cougary friend. Finally, the night capped off with a car ride home with <span id="goog_1222750919"></span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rfUYuIVbFg0">Don’t Stop Believing</a><span id="goog_1222750920"></span> on volume 1000. All in all a pretty good night I would say. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Having been to the Sandpiper before, I knew there was a lack of age appropriate men, but there might have been some potential for ladies on the prowl for teens and those in the early 20’s age group. They’re there. Get there and dance up on them!</span></div>prettystarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05646389463676250275noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787604376544779327.post-68358147546374920532011-03-21T12:14:00.000-07:002011-03-22T08:54:03.903-07:00Every little thing he does is magic?<m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent> </m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Our next stop was again out in the boonies at <a href="http://www.markjamesgroup.com/bigridge.html">The Big Ridge Brewing Company</a> in Surrey. Having pieced together the thoughts “men” and “beer”, we figured that one of those two things should be at this place. Having gotten there fairly early the place was a bit sparse, but we decided that the night was young and there was beer to be had. As the afternoon wore into evening we were unpleasantly surprised that most of the people arriving were there on dates...but of course! It’s the weekend before Valentines Day’s. Awesome. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Then we started noticing that the people who weren’t there on dates were a strange breed of solo diners, almost as if they were out on their day pass from the institution... if you’re picking up what I’m throwing down. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">So amidst a sea of couples and crazies, there we were. Two single ladies with a target on their backs. A target that clearly said if you are a magician, get up in my grill because we love magic. Here’s the funny thing though. I totally don’t love magic. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">And so here’s where Rick comes in. The pubs weekly magician (?).<a href="http://www.vancouvermagic.com/family/video_painting.htm"> Tricky Ricky</a> turned out to be a nice enough man, but not really the caliber that we were looking for. In between the balloon animals, sexual innuendos, card tricks, Youtube video plugs and pictures of his daughter, we knew it was time to bid this place fucking adieu and take our sorry asses home. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The final breakdown of this place? If you are into pretty amazing nachos, magic and a decently brewed beer, give this place a go. </span></div>prettystarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05646389463676250275noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787604376544779327.post-57484651302024771932011-03-21T12:12:00.000-07:002011-03-22T08:48:30.666-07:00Wine with a side of douche<m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent> </m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Our first venture out wasn’t actually a mission to find men, but more of a business meeting to discuss the goals of this new project we’ve taken upon ourselves. A fact finding mission if you will. Destination? <a href="http://brownsrestaurantgroup.com/brownssocialhouse/">Brown’s Social House</a> in Walnut Grove. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">While I was enjoying my glass (bottle) of wine I glanced around to see if there was any potential hanging around the lounge. Boy was there not. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">While the douche bag epidemic grows world wide, nowhere does it run more rampant in the lower mainland than Langley. Now I already knew this going into Brown’s, this wasn’t my first rodeo after all, but I was trying to keep an open mind. Sometimes there could be a diamond in the rough.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Instead, there was what there usually is – a collection of tribal flash art on a canvas of Ed Hardy, True Religion and mursed bodies. I’m pretty sure Eminem gave up triple x sweatpants in his older age, so should everyone else. The men here were a write off, however the Cowboy salad is fabulous! </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Also a fun side note – the Mimosas and Caesars are $4.50 on the weekend. Throw one or four in your mouth and wash the douche away. </span></div>prettystarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05646389463676250275noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787604376544779327.post-59949578260266817942011-03-21T12:05:00.000-07:002011-04-04T13:26:39.121-07:00And so it begins...<m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent> </m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">So here you are at yet another blog. But wait! It’s not just another blog, this blog is dedicated solely to understanding the how’s, why’s, what’s, and WTF’s of finding men in the city of Vancouver. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">This little project started when a friend on mine declared that this was going to be the year that she meets a man. Not just any man though, a GOOD man, one that she could potentially marry. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">But the catch is, where does one find such a thing? In the proclaimed most livable city in the world, where does a girl go to find the good men of Vancouver? </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Now I know what you’re thinking, why not give online dating a go, you’re already online anyways writing this blog....</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Well you see my problem with that is anyone can be great online, because you can essentially be whoever you want. It’s almost as if the internet gives people some sort of super powers...the power of not being socially awkward, hurray!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Interacting online is VERY different than interacting face to face, hell most of our society can’t even pick up the phone to call someone anymore. In our ever growing digital world, I think that social interaction is a dying scene, so in an effort to keep it alive I will be venturing out into the real world to meet people. People can still carry on a conversation in person, I’m sure of it!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">So that being said, here we are, embarking on the impossible mission of finding out where the men are. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">To make things fair, this adventure will be taking place all over the lower mainland, Vancouver and abroad ...those good guys could be anywhere you know. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">To start off , seeing as it still feels like winter, and from the looks and feels of it, might be for awhile, we figured the first place to start our search was indoors, aka lounges and pubs. What better way to combine our two hobbies - searching for men and drinking. Now I’m no mathlete, but I figure that the majority of the masses like to engage in the after work cocktail ritual, and the good thing about Vancouver is that it’s hip to this scene, as there is no shortage of watering holes around the city. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">So here is a breakdown of what we’ve been up to so far!</span></div>prettystarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05646389463676250275noreply@blogger.com1