The Big Easy
Note: this is the regular author's unlucky partner in crime blogging at the request of the lazy blog owner.
She called me from New Orleans a few hours ago and said, "Baby, please please please put a post on my blog for me. It's national blog every day month" or some horseshit like that, "...and I need to post and I don't have any connectivity from my hotel and.." blah blah blah.
I'm thinking WTF...I just got home from work to some leftover beans and our greasy, moping, and endlessly hungry teenager and you can't get connectivity on your vacation?! Cry me a river. So she gave me her blogger password anyway and here I am. Man I am pussy-whipped.
She went on to say, "Just write this on my blog, 'I'm in New Orleans. I had a meal and a job offer. What's next?'" Check, done, fin.
Ya'll keep Ladyfriend in your thoughts and prayers, and make sure you pray that she gets some huge ass beers while she's down in the Big Easy. In the meantime I'll probably post rude pictures on here until she gets back.
p.s. is that Jason refusing a Huge Ass Beer from the lead singer of Cinderella?
posted by MsHellion @ 10:04 PM
6 Comments:
HEY! You're casting me in a mighty unflattering light. How dare you imply that I'd refuse a huge ass beer from the lead singer of Cinderella!
Thanks for the help, Old Man. Just remember, I know many of your sundry passwords, too. And I'm a helluva lot better at Photoshop. ;)
God I miss the HUGE ASS beers in New Orleans. I went twice for Mardi Gras and those were an absolute staple to go with my muffeletta or my etoufee.
MsHellion, you'd better be having an awesome time. Otherwise, well, nothing really...I mean, what am I gonna do? Just have a good time.
Shared Blogger password? Damn, that's trust, baby!
Dave, you should have gone to the Patton Oswalt show. He went batshit insane on one of those showy douchebags who always try to ruin every concert in Louisville. It was funny.
No joke, I used to know a guy who was an electrician by trade. He made something like 40 bucks an hour to work at Watt's Bar dam, and he thought the greatest thing in the world was the beer sign guy. He paid one of those guys outside a strip club like 20 bucks so that he could hold his sign for an hour. What did that sign say, you ask?
HOT PUSSY!
COLD BEER!
He was in heaven.
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