Sunday, August 31, 2014

Inspite of Our Fathers (the drunken master-debator incident)

Were you raised by a man of character who taught you right from wrong? Yeah me neither.

Although he was considerably flexible for a fat guy. 

As a result of my poor upbringing here's what I get up to on my spare time:

8:00 P.M.

My buddy Cuervo hit me up wanting to go to Hollywood. I was already in L.A. so we arranged for him to pick me up on Los Angeles Street in the heart of downtown. He drove up and down the street but could not see me. We were wasting precious party minutes, so I decided to take one for the team. I threw what dignity I had left out of the hole in the wall I call a window and started dancing like a leprechaun. That way Cuervo could see me his next lap down the street.

If you don't know how to leprechaun, then it is I who feel sorry for you.

At first I was a little embarrassed but then I realized people in L.A. are so used to crazy people that no one even took notice of my dancing. That's when I took offense. "What, my crazy random dance moves not good enough for these people??" I thought to myself. I decided to take it up a notch and go full mentally challenged. I pulled out all my best moves Roger Rabbiting and Rebok-ing like I had never Roger Rabbitted and Rebok-ed before. Literally.

10 minutes later Cuervo pulled up. I was drenched in sweat from dancing, but still hadn't gotten anyone to notice me. Or so I thought.

Good thing you finally spotted me, I was bout to pass out.

Um, right.... "finally"

9:00 P.M.

We were now at the club where Cuervo got me fucked up on an oversized AMF. If you don't know what that is, this blog probably isn't for you. We posted up against a rail as we checked out the talent on the dancefloor. A girl came up  to me who spit mad game:

I'm single.

Woo - hoo!

How old are you?

30, how old are you?

I'm 22, but I like older men.

Well I like younger girls. I think we can make this work.

*We started macking on the dancefloor, and made a little drunken chit chat. She kept forgetting my name which kinda pissed me off*

I'm the guy! Its my job to forget your name!! You're the chick, you're supposed to remember mine!

Calm down Filippe, I will always remember your beautiful eyes.

*Like I said, mad game. With the timing of parade wrecking rain cloud, Cuervo pulled me off the dance floor*

Hak-Man and crew are in Burbank at a comedy show. They can get us in for free! Let's roll...

10 P.M.

We were now with the Hak Pack in a comedy club talking mad shit to comedians and staff alike. One of the comedians asked us, "Why the fuck are you guys so loud??"

That's one of them retardicle questions, right?

We kept ordering rounds of Vodka off the Russian waitress mimicking her accent, but apparently I took it too far when I said, "Geeve uz moor Vodka, for Putin!" She gave me the dirtiest, soul piercing look.

What are you looking at me for?? I'm not the one who voted for him to be the Sultan of Russia..
[staring intensifies] by peterned, on Flickr
Creative Commons Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 2.0 Generic License   by  peterned 

That's when she threw her challenge out.

 Eef you wor reel men zou would dreenk 151!

*We looked around the table at each other with fear in our eyes, but it was too late to back out now. Plus we couldn't show weakness in front of the reds*

Bring on the 151's!!

That's when the bouncer threw us out.


I guess the round of 151's was the straw that broke the camel's back. We hit the streets in an inebriated, disorganized mess. Bart was the one to lead the pack walking drunkenly ahead of us all like Bernie listening to music.

If you never watched Weekend at Bernies 2, get the fuck off my blog!! (start at :11)

Leading the pack was just the start. That fool lead us right to another bar where despite being the drunkest of all of us, he somehow beat me at darts, got a hot chicks number, and had enough sense to order an Uber taxi to drive us back to our cars that were only one block away. The Uber guy didn't even charge us, I think he was just happy to get rid of us so quickly.

So we were back in the bank's parking lot where we parked our cars earlier, and that's where it happened.

We were all standing in a group shooting the shit for bit, sobering up before getting in our cars. But apparently Bart didn't have the patience for that. He walked up to Hak Man's car which was about 25 feet away from where we were and tried desperately to open the door even though it was clearly locked. Then he started dry humping the car. Then he fell to the floor.

I told Cuervo to go check on him. Cuervo walked casually toward Bart, but then came rushing back full speed.

What happed?

He's jerking off!

Through his pants?


Like, he actually whipped "it" out?


And so I would like to make this my official court ordered apology to the fine city of Burbank and it's law abiding citizens some of whom will never be the same again. I would also like to take my hat off to Bart in spite of my father. Bart, you have taken debauchery to another level I can only dream of attaining!!!

*Don't forget to check out my book!  

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