Quit Whining Like A Baby And Go Home

Closing time is closing time. No matter how many times you beg for a beer you will get nothing except for a pissed off bartender who, by the way, is sober and will remember you the next time you come in. This tactic of asking for something so many times that you become annoying to the point that the other person finally relents to your request may have worked on your parents but I am not one of your parents. Instead of getting what you want, you will get a hardy “Go fuck yourself!” and an invitation to leave. Maybe if your parents had tried a similar approach, albeit maybe not as harsh of a word selection, you wouldn’t be such an insufferable prick as an adult.

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Eggs Over The Rainbow

When looking for food in the wee hours of the night, a slow night at that, one should take into consideration that special orders are not going to be satisfied by the cook that has most of the kitchen closed down for the night. This is how the conversation went with the little fellow in his fifties that looked like a leprechaun that lost his shillelagh and traded in his green hat and vest for a beanie and a leather biker jacket, after I told him the late night menu was all that was available.
Shamis- I’m going to put in a special order for food.
Me- Nope, not going to happen.
Shamis- I want seven eggs.
Me- Nope, we’re done here.
Shamis- Then give me a beer.
Me- Nope, there is no way I’m giving you a drink, time to go.
Shamis- So, you’re not giving me anything?
Me- Nope, bye now.
Shamis- You’re an asshole!
Me- Nope, have a good night.
Yes, you have to love the persistence of the little guy, (by the way, his name wasn’t Shamis, I have no idea what it was) but in the end it just gets annoying dealing with drunk non-believers. Jump on a rainbow and go to an all night diner and be rude to them, I didn’t get you drunk, go be someone else’s problem ya wee little prick ya!

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Killer Faux Pas

Now, I’m no fashion expert by any stretch of the imagination but I saw something that totally cracked me up last night. Picture, if you will a young man in his early twenties, a little stocky, wearing blue jeans, basketball kicks and a flat billed hat. All normal stuff, that is until you throw in the gold chain, pullover hoodie with the sleeves pulled up to the elbows and the fingerless wool gloves with the “diamond” bling watch worn on the outside of the wool gloves, he almost had it, then blew it. Admittedly, I do own a pair of those gloves, they’re great for driving at night when it’s cold outside. The thing that makes this work for me is that it’s after dark when nobody can see me wearing fingerless wool gloves. I do not wear them out to pick up chicks, my wife would kill me for looking that dumb in public, her friends might see me, and then she would die laughing that I was out trying to pick up chicks. I have to think of the children you know. One fashion faux pas like that and they could be parentless. I just couldn’t stand the thought of them being that happy.

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Keep It In Your Pants Penis Breath!

If I had to pick a common thread for a couple of funny instances last night, it would have to be something to do with the male reproductive organ, also known as the penis. Our first incident came about when a jack-jawed tough guy came in and started messing with one of my regulars and took his hat. Now, in my experience, you don’t just snatch another person’s hat away from them, it never leads to anything good. So, a little pushing started over the incident and I got it separated and calmed down, sending the over excited idiot hat-grabber on his way. His parting comment while leaving the bar was “Come on penis breath!” as his girl was pushing him outside. Really? Penis breath? Are we in fifth-grade again? Now, part two of penis night was quite funny as well with an excellent parting quote. A girl sitting at the end of the bar overheard some guys having a conversation about the size of their junk. She pipes up and says “Oh really? I want to see!” Well, hearing that, I look down to see one of the guys ready to accommodate her request, but before he could get it out I stopped him and informed him that it was not ok to brandish his schlong-sward in the bar and they would have to take show and tell outside, so they did. After about thirty seconds she comes back in and says “I saw it, I touched it, now I got to go!” and exited the building. Yes, the full moon works in mysterious ways, you never know what you’re going to get, and if that girl is smart she washed her hands thoroughly or she may not be happy with what SHE gets.

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Sad Pony

When you choose to sport a ponytail as a grown man there are a few things you need to ask yourself like “Can I pull this off?” or “Is this the look I really want to go for?” and most importantly “Do I have enough hair to legitimately deserve a ponytail?” To the gentleman that came in to the bar last night with a ponytail, the answer to the last question should have been a resounding “NO!” Sorry buddy, but when you can see more scalp than hair it’s time to let it go. Looking at this guy’s hair kind of reminded me of the last few stragglers you get at a party, just hanging on because they have nothing better to do. Eventually they will go join their friends that have already migrated to your back, nose or ears, so give them the push they need. No, it’s not an easy decision for anyone to break up with their hair, but it will get better, and in time you will realize that your hair was just holding you back and costing you unnecessary money in shampoo, hair products and combs. Go gracefully into that good night my hair, you will be missed but not forgotten.

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