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However sometimes Facebook at first glance can fool you as well. When I see a profile of a friend holding a baby, first thing I’m wondering is: is that your baby? I know you’ve had this moment before and I’ve recently called out Liebchen for almost fooling me with her G-Chat avatar. I mean if it’s a high school or college friend you haven’t talked to in forever it’s totally possible that a baby popped out since the last time you’ve talked to someone, right? I don’t know what it is about women wanting to hold babies in their profile photos but it’s not good for people like me who could be left wondering if you got preggers ever since high school. So do me a favor, don’t fake me out with photos of you with other babies, I got enough on my plate to worry about sending out more of these awesome e-cards. UPDATE: Saw this video on Facebook and it felt like it needed a home here as well. Those were my words earlier this week. I only lasted til Wednesday. As Maxie would say, “life is hard.” Technically it wasn’t partying, it was a happy hour, a happy hour I wasn’t supposed to be at originally. Diana and Brett invited me to a happy hour over at O’Sullivan’s (conveniently located near my house) to celebrate Canada Day. I declined the invite citing I had an event to attend at the Spy Museum, however it appears I was mistaken. I showed up there and it was the wrong day. FML. So I take the Metro back to Clarendon just in time to meet up with Diana and Brett. There was a fun crowd at the bar, full of red clothing and accents. Oh I love the accents. Since Brett is Canadian the two took extra steps to celebrate properly, they showed up with a decorated cake that we presented to the bar’s owner who happened to be Canadian. So why is it an Irish bar? Well apparently his wife is the Irish one. At the bar I had the oddest run in. Last year I went on a bar crawl with Rebecca, Adam, and some friends; and we met up with Seth, a friend of Camille who also used to work with Emily. I thought it was funny and we took a photo and sent it to Emily.
Fast forward to last night. I am cutting up the cake to pass around to bar patrons and I offer some cake to a table of guys sitting next to ours. They thank us and this one guy looks at me and goes, “hey I know you- you know Emily!” I instantly remembered who he was. “Ya didn’t we have some drinks together a while back? Pho. That’s your name right? Everybody calls you Pho!” This much was true. Fate had brought us together a year later under similar conditions. We took another photo to celebrate and sent that one to Emily too.
You would think that maybe he lives close to me or something but he actually lives all the way out in Dunn Loring. What are the odds? So a few rounds of Lebatt Blue and some Poutine led to going back to my place to watch Role Models, the funniest film that involves LARPING. Needless to say I woke up again with less money in my wallet, but not in as bad of a shape. However for lunch I just had 4 slices of pizza. I think I need the gym like whoa. Thanks to all the travel I did last year, I earned a free weekend car rental with National. I redeemed it earlier this month and Wendi and I went on a road trip to see The Hangover in Fredericksburg. Why Fredericksburg? It was where the closest Sonic was!  Plenty of fuel take to us from DC to the country and back!  On the way to Wendi's I saw the new Z-Burger, which I later checked out.  This place always smell like high school teenage awkwardness.  Traffic on I-95 never a good time  However hooking up Pandora to your car's stereo is!  Have you seen this many stores in a mall? That's Fredericksburg for you- the oasis in the middle of nowhere!  If I wasn't already going to Sonic for dinner, this would of been a great runner-up.  Sonic is amazing.  So many choices...  The onion rings taste like french toast I swear!  I was starving after the movie...  A great road trip!
What has caused my sudden lack of faith? An earlier conversation with PQ brought up typing tests and typing expert Mavis Beacon. If there was somebody out there that could help me become a better typer it’s her. However right after I mentioned her I wanted to know how Mavis become such an expert typer and front woman for Mavis Beacon Teaches Typing. That’s when I found out the horrible truth. She’s actually fashion model Renee Lesperance who simply pretends to be a person who excels at typing and using the home keys. So let’s recap:
What other corporate figures are out there that aren’t real? Leave ‘em in the comments! Dmbosstone: I promised myself I’d stay dry this weekend Dianaketo: HAHAHA! I plan on getting blitzed. That pretty much sums up my weekend, it’s always tough to say you’re going to take a weekend off because when you do, everybody else decides to party harty.
Last Friday I went out to the Blue Jays/Nationals game with Rebecca and Adam, the game went into extra inning and I was tired so I went back home after the 9th. Despite my original intentions to stay in, I found myself back at home where Sarah and Mike had friends over for drinks. Next thing I know I’m getting dressed and we headed out to Jay’s Saloon, our new summer hotspot. Originally known as the shady bar next to our house (literally next to our house), we decided to have a roommate happy hour there and we discovered it’s an amazing place. It’s our new MacLaren’s.
On the way home from the the great Taquito heist, we took notice to a half-full can of Yuengling on the street, a fallen soldier in the war known as Friday night. Jake and Mike picked it up, arguing if it was beer or ginger beer. When confirming the identity of the can, they dropped kicked it into the street… hitting a Porsche convertible that was rounding the corner onto our street. The douchebag driving the car wasn’t happy. He pulled the Dane Cook move of feeling the imaginary damage to his car and then walked over to give us a piece of his mind. I was ready to back them up but the last fight I got in the middle of was years ago and my glasses are still broken from that encounter. Luckily we walked away unharmed and the d’bag drove away with the hot girl he was with. And that was only Friday. Saturday didn’t shape up to be any calmer. I decided to hit up PQ’s housewarming party where I ran into f.B. Several cups of jungle juice later I was making my way through the ghetto that is Northeast DC to Ozio to meet up with Rebecca, Adam, Amanda, and Mattie. A parked cab offers me a ride and when I gladly accepted and he then referred me to his friend that was parked next to him. However his friend was driving an unmarked blue station wagon with resident plates. I immediately questioned him on his legitimacy as a DC Taxi driver and the cabbie’s friend told me he was, “an independent DC driver.” I then threw him a lowball price to drive me downtown and he agreed- so I took the shady cab car.
After throwing him some dollars I ran out of the Taxi into Ozio where I enjoy a night of more drinks with the crew. Around 1:30 or so I got messages from Maxie who I knew was out with LiLu and Cavy having a good time. I was suddenly convinced that it would be a great idea to meet up with them at Bourbon. I hailed another Taxi and made me way to M street. I thought that where Bourbon was. After entering what I thought was Bourbon I realized I paid a cover and walked into Saloun. I then hailed another taxi and spent what little I had left in my wallet to get to Bourbon up the hill on Wisconsin Ave. Even though I finally made it to the Bourbon in Glover Park. They were at the Bourbon in Adams Morgan. This is why you don’t overbook yourself. I managed to find a fourth cab to take me back home. I woke up with substantially less money and vowed never to party again. Well at least til 4th of July. In the wake of David Carradine’s unusual death a number of other celebrity deaths have come about. Last Tuesday Ed McMahon died. I always respected him as a TV personality and I felt bad when he fell on some hard times. I then laughed when he came back with a hilarious Super Bowl Ad: We will miss you. Thursday morning I found out that Farrah Fawcett died after a battle with cancer. While I never watched Charlie’s Angels and I feel bad that you never did get to fulfill your promise to Ryan O’Neal. But you’ll forever be known as a pop culture icon: We will miss you. Later that night death has struck again, and while I was at the Red Sox/Nationals game, I found out that Michael Jackson had also passed. I was a fan of your music like many others around the world: While I cannot express the words that Deutlich and f.B have expressed, we will miss you. Today I just found out that TV pitchman Billy Mays has just passed. I was watching ESPN and after coming back form a commercial break, you can hear the anchor mutter, “Billy Mays just died?” unaware that he was on air. The broadcast went out without a beat but I was left wondering if that was a random line or a piece of news flying into his earpiece. While is he a pop icon of a lower stature it is a sad ending to a mournful week: We will miss you. It’s the last week of June, next weekend it will be July. Where is my summer going and why am I not more relaxed? Maybe because so many crazy things are going on around Metblogs:
It’s a really great thing to see all the members of Red Sox Nation come out for a game in B’more against the Orioles. That’s where I’ll usually go every year to get my Sox fix. However with inter-league play bringing the Red Sox to Nationals Park this year, it was guaranteed to be a packed game full of all the Sox fans that you’d find at Rhino Bar or Kelly’s Irish Times. On Tuesday I went with Wendi, Rebecca, and Adam. We had seats out in right field, right by the wall next to the bullpen. We could cheer for J.D. Drew, jeer at Julian Tavarez, and just laugh at the excuse that is the Nationals bullpen. We were so close to the bullpen that I could hear the ringing of the phone used to warm-up and bring in relievers. The phone sounded like a cellphone despite it being a big metal box. The phone was ringing off the hook since the Sox put up 11 runs on the Nats that night- nothing could stop them, the Red Sox even dominated the attendance records, which was broken every night in the series thanks to all the Sox fans which turned Nationals Park into Fenway southeast.
I met up with MeggiePoo towards the end of the game who was busy Tweeting the game from her seats.
So I got my Sox fix for now, I can’t wait til August however when they come back down to Baltimore, it should be a fun weekend with a bunch of FSC friends coming to visit. Last weekend my friend Craig and I attempted to make a podcast about Boston Sports. No idea if we’re going to try again but if you wanna laugh (or cry) you can listen to my pip squeak voice:
I’ve been busy trying to cover SilverDocs for DC Metblogs, and my past weekends were a trip in itself… but I’ll save that story for later. And this week has been crazy with going to all the Red Sox games this week and visiting the Spy Museum with PQ. The tale I want to talk about today is my first time. My first time in a strip club. Luckily it’s a tale I’m not telling on my own: all the hot blogs have already written about it. You know it was a good night out when it’s all over the hot pages afterwards. Do they still use that term, hot pages? There’s a prologue to this story (you know some stories have prologues), I in Boston last summer for a Bachelor’s night out, you could call it a party but there weren’t any female dancers. Well that was the problem my friend and the groom wanted to fix it. He wasn’t from Massachusetts (or the USA for that matter) and he wanted to know where we could go look at some ladies. So we’re in a bar in Faneuil Hall and he leans over and asks me, “Hey mate, do you know where the closest tittie bar is? You’re from here!” Well I didn’t know. I knew that the Combat Zone is only now a legend and that the only places I knew were outside the city. A chat with the bartender confirmed my suspicions. No strip club for this group of guys. Weeks after that night I was again enjoying some drinks with my newly married friend and some buddies. We were reflecting upon that night and when they discovered that I have not popped my red light cherry, they made a pact to do so. Unfortunately Queen LiLu beat them to it.
Until the suggestion of walking down the street to Royal Palace was thrown out. Hearing the suggestion I mentioned how at 25, I was still a strip club virgin. Others not only heard this shocking truth, but also revealed that they too haven’t ever been to a strip club. I felt like I was magically transported to a support group. “Hi my name is Patrick and I’ve never paid for a lap dance.” This sudden group revelation that we were mostly nerds drove the crowd to do one thing: go to the club… the strip club. We were rolling pretty deep as we left The Reef and strolled down 18th. I remember that I was making calls on my cell and like magic Nicole ducked into a store and walked right back out with a pack of cigarettes, LiLu ducked into a pizza shop and walked right back out with a box of pizza. Of course time perception wasn’t my forte at the moment.
A girl in a bikini walked up and asked, “who’s getting married?!?!?” After we explained that nobody was getting married and nobody was celebrating a birthday, she too was shocked to see a crowd this size just want to come out to the Royal Palace. I guess that’s what happens when you hang around these folks. Well it’s exactly what I expected: loud music, poles, women taking off clothes. As I sipped my expensive Bud Light I noticed a couple of women making a bee-line to our section. However there was no sweet talk, no lap dances (apparently they weren’t allowed at this club), but there were lots of handshaking. It was the weirdest greeting ever, all night women would walk up to me and just shook my hand. That reminds me, I should get a new hand- I might have scabees or something now.  Not Alice, but she was pretty much doing this kind of stuff The club wasn’t really what you’d call Royal or Palace. In fact the place was kinda dumpy. We just took in some of the performances and didn’t really do too much else. Maxie ran up a couple of times to offer some cash and a few of the girls with us started their own dance show- but were quickly stopped by security, “that [pointing to the dancers] is the entertainment, not you.” That didn’t stop us from making our own fun, we soon left the club where a lesbian paid Alice $20 to dance on the pole supporting the awning and she did. Well much like other first times, there was a lot of hype leading up to it- but in the end it was kinda of a let down. Maybe the next time will be better… if there is a next time… |
  
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