The powdery white stuff is on its way! No, silly, not booger sugar…I’m talking about snow! In the state that I currently reside, we had about 400 feet of snow last year and they are predicting that this winter will even be colder and bring more snow.
Good God…why do I live in a place that is hardly fit for year round habitation?
The cold and the snow are an easy excuse to spend your nights and the majority of the weekend on the couch wrapped up in a Snuggie like a pig in a blanket.
Here’s a suggestion (free of charge, of course)…grab a friend, neighbor, spouse, cousin, significant other (you get the idea) and go see some live music. Even if you live in the sticks, you should be able to find some dive bar that supports the local arts by providing live music. Indulge in a libation or two. Dance. Sit back and watch other people try to dance.
Last weekend, my husband and I did just that and went to see a friend and his cronies play 80’s cover music at a nearby bar. It was fabulous! I had my new favorite drink…tequila gimlet. Ok, I had a couple of them and the next morning I felt the same as I did back in college after doing several tequila shots right before Mingles (the dark, loud, lights flashing, make-out on the kick-ass dance floor bar that we would clamor to only after spending the majority of our night at some dumpy bar drinking cheap tap beers) closed for the night. I guess I am just not that young anymore!
By the time we left several hours later, numerous people at the bar had monikers, kindly given to them by my husband.
There was:
Camo-boy. This early 20’s beatnik was already smashed by the time my husband and I arrived which was only about 8:30. He wore a camo-style jacket out for the night (serious fashion faux pas even in Minnesota) which he chose to never take off. Perhaps he was too hammered or perhaps he was afraid of losing his precious hunting coat. We lost sight of camo-boy shortly after he was trying to pick up some fairly decent looking cougars.
Fat Jesus. Yes, this boy strongly resembled Zach Galifianakis. I believe Fat Jesus originally accompanied Camo-boy to the bar but was not nearly as shit-faced. Do you think it would be harder or easier to pick up chicks when you resemble Jesus? Hmmm…that’s one to ponder.
Skinny Jesus. A few tables away perched a Skinny Jesus on a bar stool, consuming a beer and sporting ‘Jesus-type’ sandals. As if a man’s feet aren’t ugly enough…why would they choose to slip them into a hideous pair of sandals? Why?
The Pickled Parrot. And to complete the night, there was The Pickled Parrot. He was the loner at the bar who wore his 80’s mesh baseball hat and proceeded to whistle (very loudly, I might add) to the live music. Whistling at a bar…really? I find whistling rather peculiar and I think it is like some other activity that you do by yourself (use your imagination) that should be done only in the privacy of your own home!
