Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Red Hearts Everywhere

Happy Valentine's Day, Slackers.

We're all mixed up in this damned-if-you-do, damned-if-you-don't semi-holiday. You're either dating and therefore obligated to spend a small fortune on flowers and dinner and thigh- and ass-fattening sweets (a double-edged proposition for black people?) or you're alone with the pulsating thoughts of perpetual loneliness. Amazingly, though, both situations usually end with an orgasm before bed.

In honor of today's grand holiday, I'll re-post one of the more romantic conversations I've had in my adult life. From my extensive e-mail archives, I can disclose this talky talky took place on May 30th, 2002 in the always ridiculous Thursday night heat of Mad River Bar and Grille, with a girl I smooched a few times in middle school and hadn't seen since graduation five years earlier.

After a few run-ins with this girl that night, I could tell she was wasted. Like me after two and a half beers. That wasted. I'm pretty sure she had just exited a bathroom gangbang, otherwise there's no legit explanation for her reeking of stank and liquor and smokes, sniffing every few seconds and looking like she'd just been beaten with open palms and rigid cocks.

I'm not opposed to the one-night stand, not by a longshot. But even I have my standards and limits, and there was no way this chick was getting near any cab that transported me home. I did my best to resist her drunken and drugged nostalgic advances, though it was pretty easy just by looking at her. I thought at one point I could crack a pool cue over her head and wonder whether she felt it.

Finally at the end of the night, she pulled in real close to me and uttered the following into my right hearing device (read: ear) as she straddled my right leg:

Drunk Girl: You know you always had a crush on me in high school, right? I mean, when you were with [name], you were always thinking of me.
Ace Cowboy: Really? I actually don't know how true that is.
DG: I wasn't as hot as I am now back when we went out in like 8th grade. I was always, like skinny, but now I am a little chunkier, but it works for me, and I'm hot now.
AC: Hey, I don't think you're that chunky.

So she began her sex pitch by telling me about her current boyfriend, but how she definitely doesn't at all believe in monogamy. When it became abundantly clear I wasn't interested in pursuing even a conversation with her, she looked at the girl I was talking to before being interrupted by this amateur porn candidate...

DG: Are you hitting on that girl?
AC: No, I don't really hit on girls.
DG: You're that cool, huh?
AC: No, I'm that uncool.
DG: I'm too dirty for you, right?
AC: A little too much. And I love dirty. Um, no offense.
DG: Well, not to be offensive, but I don't usually hook up with guys like you. But I am willing to do a charity case tonight, liven up your life a little bit.

Then calmly and plain-spoken, I called her a drug addict and said something about her being a whore. But playfully, not rude, I know how to walk the fine line. Here's where it gets interesting:

DG: I can't believe you're rejecting me. Nobody rejects me. Don't you know I just dated Michael Olowokandi?
AC: The Kandi Man? Wow, I really like the Clippers.
DG: Well, I like three things: hard alcohol, big cock, and hip hop.
AC: I can provide you none of those things. I've heard of hip hop, though.
DG: Do you eat pussy? (as she laughs maniacally)
AC: I usually eat bagels, but I can hang.
DG: You sure I can't change your mind, nobody ever says "no" to me. I'm cute and I suck cock.
AC: Wow, um...hi. (She really almost got me right there)
DG: I can't believe you don't want me for a night.
AC: I can't believe you stink this bad. Go talk to someone else...

In hindsight, this conversation is unflattring for both of us, so maybe I should have just taken her home to add an interesting post-script to the story. But, trust me, she looked like the star of every snuff film ever made. It's so sad to see good girls go bad. I never want a daughter. On that note, Happy Valentine's Day!

Slack Link of the Day: I think every guy out there is waiting for March 14th to roll around...Steak & BJ Day will be on the calendar by 2010.

Non V-Day Link of the Day: Taxpayer money, we hardly knew ye -- Gotta love this new Government Accountability Office report, which finds the Bush Administration spent more than $1.6 billion in public relations and media contracts in a two and a half year span. Yeah, that campaign worked.

Slack Video of the Day: In honor of today's semi-holiday, I present you with this barely safe for work clip of this funny sexy Valentine.

Slack Song of the Day: I'm not the biggest fan of DJ mash-ups, but then again, I think they're conceptually quite awesome. A while ago I stumbled upon a Beatles/Beastie Boys mix called The Beastles, and the follow-up to that album is out: Let It Beast.

After a quick listen, I'd say the original album is much better. But I suggest checking out Ladies Do Love Me, A Day in the Life of a Beastie Boy, Electrified Kite and Let It Beast.


At 11:56 AM, Blogger Trix said...

Happy V-Day, Ace!



At 12:07 PM, Blogger the belligerent intellectual said...

I would compete against Olowakandi in a math test, I would compete against him in a free throw shooting contest, but I would NOT compete against him in sex. I mean, if there's one natural talent he has, it's not basketball.

At 12:11 PM, Blogger Matty Mac said...

Yes, Happy VD Ace. No "mwah" from me though (unless you make lots of money). How about a handshake/hug type of thing? That's one of the greatest conversations I've ever heard (read).

You: lucid, candid and playing it cool

DG: brain's been asleep for hours, has no idea she's talking to a human, leaving a snail trail from the bathroom to the bar.

I got something similar but not nearly as wild as yours, last week.

I was working at the bar and I get a tap on my shoulder. I turn around and look right through the eyes of a deliriously drunk girl.

DG: Hiiiiiiii.
Me: Um, hi. Need something?
DG: Your name.
Me: Matt. Yours?
DG: pjhssdgoiash (drool)
Me: That's pretty.
DG: Let me be blunt? You have a girlfriend?
Me: I'm engaged actually. (she wasn't nearly good looking enough for me to play along)
DG: Well, that sucks. I would have fucked your brains out tonight.
Me: That's nice.
DG: Well, if your woman dies or something, here's my number. (scribbles 13 numbers onto a paper coaster)
Me: Thanks.
(she then falls down, so we kick her out of the bar).

I have a love/hate relationship with drunk girls.

At 12:34 PM, Blogger Ace Cowboy said...

My sentiments exactly, Intel...that's like throwing a hot dog in an airplane hangar. Although, if his history is any indication, I bet he missed and then got hurt.

Matty, that's an absolutely hysterical conversation...I feel like you should have a blog of just bartending stories. If that Club Life dude can get a book deal, surely a funny bartender with a broken nose can get one too.

At 12:47 PM, Blogger MDS said...

The weird thing about Olowokandi is, did anyone not know he was going to be a bust? Most draft busts are only busts in hindsight. (Sure, we can all say now that it's ridiculous that there was even a debate between Peyton Manning and Ryan Leaf.) But with Olowokandi, I don't know anyone who thought he would be any good.

At 1:12 PM, Blogger Momentary Academic said...

Um. Wow.

At 1:32 PM, Anonymous The Cowgirl said...

good story babe!

At 1:42 PM, Blogger Gypsy Rose said...

See, that’s where the weird looking oddly attractive women, like me, have the advantage over the obviously pretty ones. I like to think of myself as like… sardines. Some guys like them, some guys don’t like them at all. And you have no way of knowing who likes sardines without asking them point blank.

So I always had to let the guys do most of the hitting on. You would have never caught me drunk, in a bar, with my arms folded, yelling at some guy, “What the hell do you mean you don’t like sardines?”

Drunk, in a bar, arm wrestling yes… but not indignant about rejection.

At 2:02 PM, Blogger Don Fiedler said...

being 1/4 portuguese, i LOVE sardines. let's arm-wrestle and then make it, gypsy! obrigado!

At 2:18 PM, Blogger Gypsy Rose said...

Did I say arm? I meant mud.

We still fresco, Donny?

At 2:36 PM, Blogger Matty Mac said...

Yes, great story babe!!

I would love to start a blog a la "Club Life", but for many reasons I don't think it'll happen.

A) I don't want to seem like I am biting his work.
B) I am not nearly as good a writer as he is.
C) I am not as angry with the world as he is. Or at least he seems to be.
D) I don't have the time or attention span to dedicate myself to it. (See my last blog)

I do, however, have TONS of stories that would make for good print. Maybe someday. Ghost writer, anyone?

At 2:39 PM, Blogger Matty Mac said...

Oh, my nose has been fixed. It's still technically broken, but it's straight now. Although, until the 22nd, it will be held together with stitches.

It looks much better than the pictures I sent you last week.

At 3:21 PM, Blogger Sox1918 said...

For all those NU chickas out there...i think its pretty fitting what the Drunk Girls initials represent

At 11:52 PM, Anonymous Dave No.6 said...

Ace, that is some of the funniest shyte I have ever read. I have a newfound respect for ya.

Note to self: remember to read Slacklane daily.

Peace brotha.

P.S. - how could you turn down a blowjob from the girl who just sucked off the Candi Man?


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