Top 5 of the Day

This Top 5 is going to be completely crass. I'm sorry. Matt and I love...boobs. Cans. Jugs. Woohoos. Regardless. Today's T5otD are our favorite names for our favorite body part.

Top 5 names for __________.

5. Hooters - not only do we love the female anatomy, but we love the restaurant.
4. Sweater puppies - I dont' know who came up with this, but this makes me laugh.
3. Woo hoo Dillies - Making a comeback from the college, this one comes from Jack.
2. Gunboats - *Matt is making shooting noises, Pew Pew Pew pew peeeew!*
1. Yeah Yahs! - Because they make me go... YEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAH YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAH

After reading this list, Matt has a few honorable mentions. "this list is so unfair", he said. Here are some of Matt's personal favorites: funbags, tig ol' bitties, jugs, and ta tas.

We feel utterly misogynyst after writing this post. Ladies, we're sorry, but we only say this because we love you...and all your parts. Honestly, what's wrong with a good pair of... breasts? apples? knockers? mounds?


In order to get some more responses to this post, here is a question for you, dear readers. What is your favorite prejorative?

Winner gets dinner on me.

Top 5 of the day

It's been awhile since I've posted, and for that, I must humbly offer my forgiveness. Here is the top 5 of the day, compete with photogenic goodness.

Along with my mother, I consider myself to be one handsome devil. I haven't gotten confirmation from anyone else about this. I've asked exes if I was handsome and the usual answer I get is a "of course, hun". Very reassuring.

So, the T5otD is....


Wil's Top 5 favorite haircuts.

5. The Producer

4. The Sawyer

3. The Surfer Boy

2. The Blue

1. The Dreads.

Damn I look ridiculous.

I love Karaoke.

I usually get suckered into bringing girls that I'm dating to the bars that I work at.  Not that I'm opposed to seeing them, but rather it cramps my rather trampy bartending style.  I flirt with every girl that comes in, trying to wrangle an extra dollar...or seven, out of the ladies.

But I digress.

One night, a girl that I had recently met had taken it upon herself to show up on our designated karaoke night.  "I love karaoke!" she sputtered excitedly, "Maybe I'll sing a Grease song!"

Two things scared me. 1 - She seems way too excited.  2 - She wants to sing Grease.

To protect the innocent, we're going to be changing names here.  I don't want to receive hate mail.

Elizabeth was a cutie, in the classical style.  Her short hair and button nose, coupled with her red sweatshirt gave off the impression of a less than innocent Little Red Riding Hood.  She was quiet though, which actually fit the mold for girls who find me attractive.  For someone as loud as I am, I always half expected to meet someone as equally obnoxious.  But I seem to draw the quiet ones the same way Rob draws girls with eating disorders.

Back to story.  I was working a quiet Sunday night at Pat's Cocktails.  John and I were listening to some bad tunes, slinging some bad drinks, and telling some bad jokes.  We were having a night, Jimmy G slinging Karaoke like crack on Hollywood Blvd; only the degenerates were biting.

Elizabeth walked in by herself, already clearing her throat for her vocal hijinks.  

"Hey Wil, can I go sign up for Karaoke now?" She asked.  John the bartender just shot her one of those WTF looks.

"Of course you can, here's a woo woo*" I replied, while sliding a pink drink across the counter.  She knocked it back like it was her first time drinking and sauntered over to Jimmy G at the karaoke machine.

Without even flipping through the list of available songs, she immediately tells the Karaoke Host what she wants.  I'm watching this exchange and both John and I note the look of incredulity that passes across his face.

Cut to five minutes later.

"Everyone give a big hand for... Elizabeth!"  Jimmy G shouted.

She quietly made her way up to stage and stood there, hunched over in embarrassment in front of the patrons.  If I didn't know any better, I would say that she was only holding the mike for someone else who was singing.  And then, the song started.

Bass and tom drums.  Dah duh duh da duh.  Dah duh duh da duh.

This song was way louder and harder than the one she picked, obviously.  I look up front to see if she was looking around in panic.  Nope.  Calm as a cucumber.

All impressions of her being quiet were dispelled as soon as she opened her mouth.

"OOOOOHHHH WHHHHHAAAAAAHHHHHAHHHHHAAAAHHHHHAAAAAA"

The opening screams from Disturbed's 'Down with the Sickness' ripped out of her throat.  She then continued to flay her vocal chords for the next five minutes, shredding the song with the passion and angst of an annoyed postal worker.

I asked her to marry me as soon as the song ended.

Can we all say don't judge a book by its cover?

*woo woo - terrible.  Cedric Benson terrible.  If anyone ever orders one from me, I will take it as a personal affront.

Best Phone Call Ever.

Due to the global irregularity of time zone changes, I receive phone calls at some bizarre times. With friends all over the country, I understand that it's sometimes difficult to remember that there could be a three hour time difference between our respective locations. The only reason I bring this up is because I got a phone call at 4:00 in the morning.

Digital watches were a neat invention.

So, Valentine's day rolled around again. Which, for the uninitiated means that I receive bouquets of flowers, boxes of candy, and heartfelt message on my phone. Not really, but you get the idea.

I got the best Valentine's day present ever. EVER. I received a phone call from an obviously drunk and horny ex girlfriend. God bless her. This wasn't your normal run of the mill phone call, it was the kind that only two people who have had carnal knowledge of each other can have. It started off innocently enough.

"Hey babe, I'm in bed wearing that teddy you got me," she said. I've never bought here a negligee, but I decided to play along.

"Hmmmppph," I grunted...very sexily, I might add, if you think the emanations of a bull moose are 'very sexy'.

"I just got so hot thinking about you, that I started a little bit early," she continued. At this point I started getting a little hot under the collar myself. In an effort to even the stakes a little bit, I took off my shirt and pants, though I kept my socks on. I usually get cold feet, plus girls love to see a naked guy in socks, though she obviously couldn't see me.

It's been awhile since I even spoken normally to this girl, but hey, I wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Feeling a little silly, I replied "I'm touching myself too..." Scratching behind my ears is technically touching myself, right?

Here is where the conversation took a turn for the bizarre. "When are you going to be coming over?" she asked.

Wait. What? Coming over there? Double entendre aside, not only do I live in Colorado, but I'm pretty sure that I hadn't planned on going to LA over Valentine's day. It was at this moment that I realized three things.

1. She is dating someone else.
2. She meant to dial someone else.
3. She has absolutely no clue that it was me.

"Baby," I whispered. "You know what I want right now?"

"Tell me," she purred.

The next words out of my mouth are a uniquely Wil way of wording. Alliteration aside, the phrase I was about to utter is mine. And she knows it's mine.

"Baby, I want a little... Carnal Drunken Monkey Sex."

I heard the phone drop at the same time I heard a male voice in the background say "Babe, where are you?"





So. Some advice to you, dear readers. After you finish dating someone, take them out of your speed dial.

I am petty

Damn, I sound vindictive.

Last time I tried that, she wound up sleeping with a hippie.

Man, I haven't thought about her since I was 20 years old, but that's a story for another time.

***edited***

Yeah, no more drinking and posting.

F you of the Day.

***post has been edited***


summary. I hate people.

















I hope you're allergic to flowers.

















haha.

Armageddon

I have seen the end of the world. My dreams have opened up a window to the future, a mere glimpse into the terror that comes.

When nuclear Armageddon occurs, I will be playing golf with Tiger Woods. Nuclear winter will descend upon us, quicker than a pack of electric golf carts. The howlings winds, barely able to drown out the whine of the engines.

My chip shot onto the green falls short...rolling down into the already freezing water. We take off towards the open air pavilion. Safety.

My parents are there, surrounded by a group of adults that look suspiciously like they just stepped off the Mayflower.

Ignoring the panicked adults, I sit down at my computer and start to post my last blog in this world. My manifesto.

















My mind has blanked. I have to rely on the words of the immortal Ted Theodore Logan and Bill S. Preston Esquire.



"Be excellent to each other."

I only hope that those who find our remains take this message to heart.

Are you kidding me?

I don't get annoyed very often. Especially when I get to drink for basically free. I love Andrew's. The manager came up to me after the bar had closed. About...22...of us were still there in the back room, and I was the only one that had to leave. I don't want to say it was because i was black, but it was definite segregation.


You know what else I'm upset about? One of my favorite girls ever is ignoring me. I don't deal well with being ignored. Especially in person. You spend that much time with someone, all I want is the truth.

-wil

p.s. that felt so good.

p.s.s What the hell is this post about? Was I watching a movie when I posted this. Man. No more drinking.

Top 5 of the day

Top 5 Super Bowl moments from SB 08

5. Rocking out at Andrew's.
4. Los Giants!
3. Winning the end of game pool.
2. Spraying bottles of champagne.
1. 18-1

Best Breakfast ever

I love days like this. After the Giants capped a phenomenal run at the Super Bowl, we hit up our favorite off the strip hotspot. Free drinks and pretty girls; mix well, drink, repeat. Our buddy Todd is a Giant's fanatic, one who got doused with champagne by yours truly after the game.

You've all played the football squares, we ended up winning the big pot at the end of the game. Good times, covered our tabs that day.

So, we had breakfast at Hooters today. Flirted with the wait staff, you know the drill. It's always amazing to me what a small world it is. One of the girls lived in Hawaii and needed some photos done for the Hooter's 09 catalog. Guess who is one talented camera guy? Oh yes. Me.

Wil 1, Life 0

Super Bowl Time!

We're headed off to do a little PSBDTF. Oh yes. A little Pre Super Bowl Drunken Tag Football.

I'll update later today.