This blog will describe the events and adventures of myself, a severely bored 23 year old, 2 years out of college. I work for a large corporation which will remain unnamed due to the communist regime we are currently under and the high number of dictators which inevitably will find this page, summons me to HR, and let me know my services are no longer required. I, however, will drive to Alaska immediately following such a meeting, and make a cameo appearance on Deadliest Catch, before I am thrown off the boat for being completely uncoordinated and unable to perform simple tasks.

Saturday Night 6/13 - Out with 'yoguy'

Due to not implicating anyone in my follies, I will use nicknames for friends who need to, NEED to, not be named in my blog.

6PM Getting ready to meet yoguy for drinks and dinner in Clarendon. The Bellmont is at 6:24PM and because I am an addictive gambler, I have 6 trifectas bet on the race. I don't know shit about horse racing but I do a small amount of research the morning of and make a few decisions. My roommate has suggested that besides my trifectas I put some money on "I'mawildandcrazyguy". At 20-1 odds its a long shot, but so I put a small 20 buck bet on it which would of paid off 400 and funded a few lap dances and a lot of tequila for melosh and myself.

6:24PM The race begins, the announcer immediately remarks "Imawildandcrazyguy" is LUMBERING out there, he is 8 lengths back from the pack. This horse ran possibly the worst race I've ever seen, no, he definitely ran the worst race I've ever see. With my dreams dashed immediately I text Melosh "BULLSHIT", and that is the last time I will ever seek his advice in horse racing.

6:27PM The race is over, the finish was horse 7 horse 3 horse 2. I look at my trifeca sheet and I have in fact hit the trifecta. Finally hit a fucking trifecta. I've been on horse races about 15 times now and not once have I hit one. I yell in my apartment and realize I'm completely alone which is pretty depressing considering this was a great moment in my life.

How much did I bet?

$1, 1 fucking dollar.

Why?

I lost all my money to some guy in on-line poker who caught quad 2s on the turn and the river. Bullshit.

I depart for Yoguys to celebrate my 65 buck winnings. (65-1 odds, the hell couldn't I have just bet 10 bucks).

7:30PM I arrive at Yoguys, he greets me with a "Yo GUY!". Yoguy is probably one of the most chill people I know, and can always be talked in to going anywhere and taking a massive amount of shots. Whenever the shots arrive he always gives you a "fuck dude", like it's a terrible idea for us to get wasted but inevitably there is no avoiding it. He also realized in college that I'm one of the sketchiest individual he knows, he embraces it, and he two decides to be sketchy with me.

7:45 Yoguy and I quickly chug a beer and head out to get dinner. I'm not hungry, but I love having shots delivered to me in a dining area where everyone else is sipping ice tea and eating entrees, it might be liberating, I'm not sure. We arrive at a local Clarendon establishment and sit outside along the main st at a nice table for 2. It's perfect outside so there is an abundant amount of skirts walking by, as well as sitting in our immediate dining area. I've noticed something lately however, I'm terrible at reading girls looks at me. I've decided that they either A) think I'm somewhat attractive, or B) they are creeped out that I have looked over too many times and are now wondering what the hell I am doing staring at them, but I digress.


8:00PM Yoguy and I order a round of beers, and another, and another, a shot of yager, and then I switch to vodka tonics cause at times although I can hold my shit better then anyone, beer fills me up and I need to have a bounce in step for the laidies obviously. I suggest we take a shot of tequila to Yoguy but he responds with "dude, it's 8pm, try to pace yourself". Yoguy has a point, I'm notorious for starting quick and strong, and fading fairly fast. I was feeling it that night though, I was feeling real good. In the end, I had 4 beers, 2 shots, and 3 vodka tonics in the span of an hour. I was tipsy.

9:00PM Yoguy and I head back to his place due to his addiction for chewing tobacco. He throws a lip in and we decide it's a good night to head to Adams Morgan, which in fact turned out to be a solid decision.

9:15PM 15 minutes on the corner waiting for a cab. You know when you're with a friend, and I mean you're good friends, but you have exactly 0 to say so you're just standing there thinking of something to talk about? Finally I came up with, have you ever given a girl the shocker?

9:40PM We arrive at Adams Mo which is a madhouse of DC girls in their over priced outfits and high heels, street thugs, and DC police. Yoguy find a random dive bar and have a beer. The place is 90 degrees, no joke. A cute girl to my right is looking at me, I wipe my face clean in case she is staring at a chunk of food I missed from earlier. No food, maybe she's interested. Her friend comes, they walk away, that was that, I'm a pussy.

9:50PM Yoguy says it's time to go, and he's right. We head to another bar, but I did not know the name of it once we are in. I ask a fellow patron "Where are right now?", over the music he yells back "MADAMS ORGAN!", I reply "I know I'm in Adams Morgan, but what bar is this?", he replies "THE NAME IS MADAMS ORGAN!", I reply "NO ITS ADAMS MORGAN, YOURE SWITCHING THOSE LETTERS AROUND MAN", he doesn't reply and walks away.

9:53PM Sign above bar reads "MADAMS ORGAN PUB", I understand now, I wish I could apologize.

10:00PM Some guy ordered the wrong beer and offers it to me. I take it, and offer to buy him a shot of yager. I take the shot of yager, I spill it on my white polo. I hate that feeling, when a stain hits you, you know you're that guy now that no matter what girl you talk to you cannot avoid making a joke regarding my stain.

10:20PM Yoguy and I make our way to the 4th floor deck of Madams Organ, it's refreshing and makes you feel like you're away from the city. We sit down at a table and immediately this woman sits down with us and asks if she can join us. She is 35, she is on crack, I'm pretty sure.
Woman - "This 7 foot Russian man won't leave me alone, can I sit with you all for a few minute?"
I think to myself, I want nothing to do with a 7 foot Russian man, nothing at all. Yoguy looks freaked out by the woman and gives me this glance of "what the fuck is this".
Me - "OK" (I'm too nice) "So where are you from"
Woman - "I'm from all over and I really cannot say..."

10:21PM A 7 foot Russian man walks through the door to the deck. I'm shocked that in fact a 7 foot Russian man was in fact following her. He sits down. His name I cannot remember, but nothing I have ever heard was more Russian. The woman tells him he is creeping her out, he looks heartbreaken. I feel bad for the Russian.

10:30PM 3 girls sit down at our table, Yoguy and I spend half an hour trying to determine if they are cute or not. We are obviously drunk and cannot see straight. Finally I spark up a conversation to the one to my immediate right. She is fairly attractive, blonde, and interning in DC from Minnesota. Easy kill....

10:32PM It's ALSO her 21st birthday. Yess...

10:34PM Tequila time, followed by a cigarette, followed by bullshit talk with her. I get so bored sometimes talking to new girls. It's the same old bullshit over and over. Whered you go to school, what do you do now, do you like it, whats your favorite food, do you want to splooge on my face (I wish that last one was discussed). I become so bored that when I'm wasted, I make up the most random shit ever, and this is why I can be very sketch. I could of told her I work for a company in Virginia doing blah blah, and that'd of been truth, but there is 0 fun in that. I have no intentions of ever seriously dating this girl, and due to the nature of Facebook and Myspace and other online capabilities, all lies these days seep out. For guys, technology is a major downfall in picking up girls. You have to carefully chose your lies and who you lie to, as I have found out on my occasions. I decide my profession is not a young businessman, but in fact a professional indoor lacrosse player. Random as shit, yes. She's immediately intrigued by this revelation. It works again.

10:50PM 17 minutes later, she's talking about how much she loves the snow, I'm looking at her but I am not hearing a word coming out of her mouth.

11:50PM ONE HOUR LATER, She is hammered, I am hammered, Yoguy is talking to a girl he met up with there. And this is when I should of stopped drinking. There's a delicate BAC level where you want to hookup with a girl who you arn't super attracted to. Before the BAC level is reach, you won't hookup with her, after the BAC level is reached and passed, half your body is hanging out of a toilet and you can't remember where your pants are. I've passed that point, I've had tons of yager, tequila, vodka, and beer. My favorite mix. I stumble downstairs and wait in the bathroom line. A girl sparks up a conversation with me by stating "Looks like you spilled some yager on your shirt!", she's not hot. I respond "LOOKS LIKE IT".

11:56PM Six minutes of the waiting for the bathroom, if you've waited for the bathroom for six minutes chances are the dude before you left some kind of monsterous poop and in fact he had, and it certainly would of been too much for him to flush it down. I take a piss that lasts a good 90 seconds. The same thought always creeps into my mind when I piss for over a minute,
"this is one of the top 5 pisses of my life, this feels so good right now",
the problem with this notion is that this thought happens to me at least once a week.
I finish my piss and proceed to flush the toilet because unlike my patron counterparts, I have manners, as few as they may be. Problem is, the dude before me used half a roll of tp. The toilet starts overflowing, and I mean not just slow overflowing like toilets are supposed to do. It's like a waterfall, a massive waterfall of shit and piss and used toilet paper and herpes and syphilises and whatever else lurks in the bathrooms in Adam's Morgan. I panic, obviously, this is possibly one of the most embarrassing moments of my life, and I wish I had caught a better look at the guy who dropped the deuce deuce before me because I would love to tap on his shoulder later in the night and ask him how the small horse he ate for dinner was.

11:58PM I run out of the bathroom. I run so quick and stay so close to the wall. If it was cold out I'd of put my jacket up against my face so I could walk incognito throughout the bar. I'm about 10 steps away from the bar when I hear the next bathroom patron let out a big "ohh shhhitttt", I keep walking, never look back if you overflow a toilet, you're only hope is to leave the scene and your past behind and head immediately to the bar to down the strong liquor possible, or at least the liquor that you know will give you the spits and you'll immediately forget you just shit stained the bathroom floor.

12:05AM I bring two shots of tequila back to the girl I was previously talking to. She said that took awhile and she didn't know how long she could keep waiting for a shot! I barely understood a damn word she was saying, and her left boob was starting to pop out of her shirt. I stared at her left boob for a good 5 minutes when finally she sparks up one of the no-no conversations of meeting new people, religion.
Leftboob - "What religion are you?"
Me - "Catholic, but not really, I think I might be going to hell"
Leftboob - "Hell isn't good, but I'm reallly into Scientology and I feel like even if you've done bad things in your life, and even if you are a true catholic, you can really find peace in Scientology for Scientology is knowing how to know answers in the fullest sense of the world, it's the science of truth, and it can provide ways in clarifying your life goals and the dreams you have set out to reach - Do you feel you'll be able to reach your life goals taking the current path you are on?"

ARE WE FUCKING SERIOUS? I MET A SCIENTOLOGIST WASTED?

This sounds like it'd SUCK, but actually, one of my life goals was in fact to MEET a scientologist and let them know that I hate John Travolta, Tom Cruise, Kristey Alley, Alf, and whoever else has joined a fake money making cult. I've lucked out tonight my friends, I'm almost overcome with so many things to say that the only thing I can do is down my shot of tequila and give her a blank stare.

Me - "This is one of my goals, to meet a scientologist"
Leftboob - "That is FANTASTIC! this is fate, this is the first step in you reaching your goals. You were sent here by a greater power to meet me so I could show you the way, and I'm so excited to do so as I feel like this has saved me from the ordinary life I could have led"
Me - "No, no, I hate scientology and anyone that follows it, it's an immense amount of bullshit. Do you realize it was founded in the 1950s by a SCIENCE FICTION author. HE WAS A SCIENCE FICTION AUTHOR. Do you know what sci-fi is?"
Leftboob "you rude piece of shit, he wrote sci-fi but he also wrote the book of scientology, the two are NOT related"
Me - "Do you hear the words coming out of your mouth right now? SCI FI AUTHOR, WROTE BOOKS, ONE WAS ABOUT RELIGION..A FAKE ONE, some IDIOT believed it, made a cult of it and targeted the emotionally weak"

I guess when you call a scientologist "emotionally weak" something in them snaps because I'm surprised now she didn't pull out some kind of scientologist laser beam cult weapon and zap me with it. She did however throw a cup of water on me and left the table abruptly.

FYI Girls - Throwing a cup of water on a guy when it's warm out does nothing, I dried off in like 10 seconds, biatches.
Throwing water on a guy will be #1,201 on my list of why guys are superior to women in every way. Also on the list are "I can piss on a wall and write my name" , "we arn't duped by lies " (ahem), and "our dicks take care of themselves" (except for my one friend who had blood in his semen but the doctor said that was from jerking off too hard, that must of been some doctors visit).

I get up from the table and realize that was one of the best 3 minute conversations of my life. I hope to again meet a scientologist and I hope again I match and even possibly exceed those results.

An hour of drinking with Yoguy goes by. At this point the only thing Yoguy can say coherently is Yoguy. His girl has brought another girl with her and she asks me if I want to do a tequila shot. Yoguy tells me that might me my 15th drink of the night and he is probably right but whatever, I met a cult member and she threw water at me in anger, I deserve to celebrate. I take the shot of tequila and immediately I have water spit mouth. The new girl I just met and took the shot with is still trying to talk to me though. We all know how much it sucks trying to talk to someone when you are trying to hold puke down and you're swallowing every 3 seconds. You finally hold one finger up in the air and nod your head with a disgusting grimace on your face letting them know to hold the fuck on cause you're about to blow chunks on the bar. The girl kept talking though, she just kept talkingg and talking and I was just swallowing my spit and swallowing my spit with one finger in the air. What the hell did she think the one finger in the air meant? One finger in the air while you have a disgusted grimace on your face is what I thought to be the universe signal for the person blabbing in your ear to shut the hell up cause you're about to puke on them. If you want to get puked on, keep talking, otherwise respect the universal symbol for water mouth and wait one minute. After that one minute everything returns to normal in the universe and you can continue on telling me about how much fun it is to teach 2nd graders and make lesson plans...uhhhlll. I talk to this girl for about another 30 minutes and she surprisingly does nothing to piss me off. Yoguy told me she was chill and he in fact was right so we all decide to leave the bar at about 2AM.

2:15AM Yoguy was dead wrong about the girl being chill. The girl is hot, and has a very nice body with a very short dress on. We are in Adam's Morgan where any side street is filled with low riders and men who cruise those streets to specifically yet at such girls.
Man in Lowrider - "Yo Pokadots (she had a pokadots dress on, it made me dizzy), you need a ride home? we can give you a ride home?"
When a large black man in a wife beater in a low rider with 3 other dudes in the worst part of DC yells at you, you just keep walking. I am in a pastel colored polo as is Yoguy. We are white, we are pretty white. The only thing not white about us is Yoguys cocked to the side Phillys hat, but I'm pretty sure true low riding black men have no respect for yuppie white guys in hats cocked to the side.
Pokadots yells back "I'D NEVER GET IN A CAR WITH YOU, YOU GOT STAINS ALL OVER THAT WIFE BEATER AND YOUR FRIENDS PROBABLY ARE CARRYING GATS!!!"
Man in Lowrider looks prettyy perturbed by this comment. He calls ME over to talk to them. I'm not sure why I walked over there, I was pretty hammered, maybe I thought I could take them, or maybe I thought I could act real chill and black like and I'd be accepted into their community. Maybe I'd be the funny white guy that gets invited to various block partys, and drinks 40s, and maybe a one-legged race? I've never been in a one-legged race but it's on my list of shit to do, but anyways I'm not sure, I don't know what goes on down there really.
Man in Lowrider "You best control your pokadots son, and you best get off these streets as quickly as possible cause we don't like being bitched at by racist white girls".
Me - "She's not my pokadots, I don't even like the girl really, Hey is that Nas singing there.."
LowRider pulls away, I've now almost been beamed by a scientologist and shot because of a loud mouth girl. We hale a cab down and that's the end of Adam's Morgan for one night. Pokadots is dropped off at her apartment and I give her a nod goodnight as I don't want to see her ever again and I'm also about to vomit in a brown paper bag the cab driver most likely drank his maddawg out of it.

2:45AM We arrive at Yoguy's house and we step out of the cab. On the entire ride home Yoguy and his girl, I'll call her Ms Bigglesworth, are pleading with me not to drive. They are right of course. I don't condone drunk driving and it's a really bad thing to do but sometimes unless someone takes those keys away from you it just happens, it just does. I know they will try to stop me so the second I step out of the cab I sprint down the street to my car, I mean I had my arms pumping up near my head I was running so fast, I was almost gliding through the night air.
Ms Bigglesworth is very displeased by my disrespect for the law and her wishes. She hops on top of my car hood in an effort to stop me. I am in my car, the car is running, I am wasted, recipe for disaster. I roll my window down and tell Yoguy "GET MS BIGGLESWORTH OFF THE HOOD, IM WASTED, THIS MIGHT BE A HIT AND RUN". Yoguy, puts one finger up in the air and with a disgusted grimace on his face signals to Ms Bigglesworth to abandon her last attempt to save my life from impending doom. One finger in the air with a disgusted grimace? Did Yoguy have water mouth at the time too? We'll never know that detail. He might of misused my universal symbol.

I speed off into the distance, and drive about 3-4 miles with my lights off. I take 3-4 wrong turns. If you ever want to get pulled over at night drunk, drive with your lights off, and take 3-4 U-turns on the same road. U-turns and no lights signify drunkedness, tequila drunkedness.

I made it home safely however, I woke up the next day with my shoes on. Whenever I wake up fully dressed with my shoes on I know I had a solid night. Every morning I wake up in bare feet, I am fully disappointed in my previous nights efforts.