I realize this is the equivalent of finding a genie and WISHING FOR A MILLION WISHES, but still, if there's one change I could make to the Tequilacon Charter, it's that there would have to be a minimum of 11 planning sessions before each event, and why not? The most recent meeting of the minds may have saved our lives, because Jenny was surely looking for a NORTH SIDE venue, while I was pulling for WEST SIDE, until Dustin's friend Gabby said, BUT YOU'LL DIE.
The worst part about the Jupiter Hotel is that every room comes with a condom, and the pressure to open it up and tear it in half and leave it on the bed for the cleaning lady or at least call the front desk and ask for an upgrade is too overwhelming because what if they think you are unlovable? What if they see COUG MEAT tattooed on your knuckles, subscript A below your wedding ring, and call you out? Will it be too late to swap out for HUG LIFE?
Benson drinks are like a box of chocolates. You never know what you gonna get. My drink came with a Gordian knot. Jenny's came with a pre-smoked cigarette. Vahid and Asia were obviously too embarrassed to tell us what they found in their drinks, so you know it was something good. It would have to be, because Sibyl informed us that we could order anything we wanted and they would go all the way to China to get it, satisfaction guaranteed. Their managers would rather commit hari kari than see you leave without a smile. When I returned from the restroom, a traveling tennis ball mogul was making indecent proposals to Jenny (apparently, he is fond of Pi). When I finally found my car 12 hours later it was time for lunch the next day. I dropped in on some old co-worker friends and we went out for coffee.
Dustin's wife admitted that she was initially attracted to him for his tableside manners, but we later learned it's because she's just really into masculine alpha types who are able to hold their Lynchburg Lemonades and Hard Ciders while lesser men tumble. He'll come in handy when we get lost in Philly, maybe flash a few gangsta tats or break out some Boyz2Men. He'll have to turn off his internal bleeper, though, before he causes the entire Atlantic population of Humpback whales to overwhelm the Delaware Port Authority.
Oh, Shari! You should have called me in advance if you needed an excuse not to come down! And thank your lucky stars, because you would have been pinky-sworn to ride the STP next year! And really, who likes mac'n'cheese? Besides everybody. But everybody is stupid.
The number and quality of PICTURES TAKEN is inversely proportional to the amount of GOOD TIME HAD. So is the headache. Damn.
Still, AAAA+ EXCELLENT TRANSACTION WOULD DO BUSINESS W/AGAIN SPEEDY SERVICE
5 comments:
Steve Perry was playing here. Who can blame me?
Seriously - thank god for Gabby and her street smarts. Although, it's still highly likely that at least one blogger will be killed in Philly.
and since it'll be at a blogger convention, it is bound to be the most photographed murder in history!
I'm with you on the headache thing. Next time we'll stick to Tanqueray and juice out of the back of your car.
And I got Shari to virtually pinkie swear to me earlier. So she won't be escaping us that easily.
When is the 08 venture? Am I still invited? Do you still have unsavory fantasies about me?
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