Testicular Mood Rings and bar reviews.
I went to a bar called Fiesta Cantina this week.
There was a party for Joseph, a showfriend of mine who almost tried to "push up on it." Not because he was attracted to me, mind you. I attribute his groping me to the fact that he was so fall down drunk that he needed something to stabilize himself and he figured my cock would be stable enough so down my pants he went. He ended up just grabbing some balls though. But everyone's done that in this town. I pulled them out like every day for a month to scare people after I got Liposuction because they were black and blue and yellow and purple. It was like the first Testicular Mood Ring.
I went alone to the bar which is never any fun for me at first. Now people who know me in real life often wonder about my oft-mentioned/never seen boyfriend of 4 years. Well he doesn't really like theater and tends to not to ever want to shut his phone off. He loudly sighs or claps overly loud with a couple of seconds between each clap. I dragged him to a comedy show and he ran into Joseph the birthday boy and his date. Now he only knows Joseph as "the guy from the show in the white jacket that he'd pork." (yes those are his exact words). So Joseph's date is named Brett but the Man nicknamed him Princess Tiny Hands because he apparently has small hands that would be great for...uhm...fitting into tight spots. Long story short...I'm in the bar alone and don't know anyone but see Brett. I couldn't remember his name so yelling "Princess Tiny Hands! Yoo- Who...Princess Tiny Hands" got his attention. I then realized that his hands were normal size and the Man just must've had fisting on the brain or something.
Anyway...So my review of the bar is this.
Good drink prices. Joseph knows this first hands and owes his liver a huge apology. The decor was shit though. It reminded me of my Gram's bingo hall when they decorated it for the summer. (My grandma actually went on to get Hepatitis B from a hot dog that she ate at that very bingo hall). I'd be willing to return for parties and such but I think I'll limit my time there. It was better than the first time I was there though. I was actually only in the alley behind it when I watched a 6'5'' black queen go in the alley behind it on Cinco De Mayo and come out with $300 and a sombrero.
S/he came out of the alley singing "Pump pump pump, Gettit gettit, shake shake shake shake a little something." I was stunned that she was so familiar with one of Walt Whitman's early works. Oh wait. I think that's from Jock Jams 5...y'know...they one were they remixed great poetry works to bad sporting event beats for use during debate team trials and mathlete competitions.
There was a party for Joseph, a showfriend of mine who almost tried to "push up on it." Not because he was attracted to me, mind you. I attribute his groping me to the fact that he was so fall down drunk that he needed something to stabilize himself and he figured my cock would be stable enough so down my pants he went. He ended up just grabbing some balls though. But everyone's done that in this town. I pulled them out like every day for a month to scare people after I got Liposuction because they were black and blue and yellow and purple. It was like the first Testicular Mood Ring.
I went alone to the bar which is never any fun for me at first. Now people who know me in real life often wonder about my oft-mentioned/never seen boyfriend of 4 years. Well he doesn't really like theater and tends to not to ever want to shut his phone off. He loudly sighs or claps overly loud with a couple of seconds between each clap. I dragged him to a comedy show and he ran into Joseph the birthday boy and his date. Now he only knows Joseph as "the guy from the show in the white jacket that he'd pork." (yes those are his exact words). So Joseph's date is named Brett but the Man nicknamed him Princess Tiny Hands because he apparently has small hands that would be great for...uhm...fitting into tight spots. Long story short...I'm in the bar alone and don't know anyone but see Brett. I couldn't remember his name so yelling "Princess Tiny Hands! Yoo- Who...Princess Tiny Hands" got his attention. I then realized that his hands were normal size and the Man just must've had fisting on the brain or something.
Anyway...So my review of the bar is this.
Good drink prices. Joseph knows this first hands and owes his liver a huge apology. The decor was shit though. It reminded me of my Gram's bingo hall when they decorated it for the summer. (My grandma actually went on to get Hepatitis B from a hot dog that she ate at that very bingo hall). I'd be willing to return for parties and such but I think I'll limit my time there. It was better than the first time I was there though. I was actually only in the alley behind it when I watched a 6'5'' black queen go in the alley behind it on Cinco De Mayo and come out with $300 and a sombrero.
S/he came out of the alley singing "Pump pump pump, Gettit gettit, shake shake shake shake a little something." I was stunned that she was so familiar with one of Walt Whitman's early works. Oh wait. I think that's from Jock Jams 5...y'know...they one were they remixed great poetry works to bad sporting event beats for use during debate team trials and mathlete competitions.

14 Comments:
where did you meet your boyfriend? -mop
I must confess. I am one of those people who actually questioned whether your BF really existed, since it seems like no one has ever really seen him. 'course then I realized that I must've said it out loud, since booth you and Momma heard me. Well, Momma confirmed that the BF does exist. (Of Course she probably heard it from the young kid that she fellated during the screening of "Chicken Little" at the El Capitan Theatre.)
As far as Fye-Ehs-Tah Cantina is concerned, is takes some getting used to. I don't go there for the food, cause I only ever nibble on their steak nachos. They can't make my Jonathan Divatini. They just don’t have the appropriate bar accoutrements. After all, one must never be forced to drink from a plastic martini glass. If I have a cocktail at Fye-Ehs-Tah Cantina, I usually end up having something with Patron which has consistently resulted in those nights that you've heard about, where I wake up naked, at the San Vicente Inn, I can't seem to find my princess cut diamond studs. Shit! Where's my Tiffany & Co. bracelet? Oh good, there's my wallet. But both my credit card and the $300.00 cash that I took out of the BofA are not there. Must’ve used it all up to pay for booze. Wait a minute, why do I have a bar tab receipt for $364.00, printed at 1:45 AM at Rage? Fuck, here's a receipt for Fye-Ehs-Tah Cantina that was printed at 11:28 PM. Fucken Fye-Ehs-tah, I knew that the should not have forced me to drink Patron. I wasn't even really going to be there, I never really came in, except when I wanted to buy party favors and I can't even do that anymore, cause all of the busboys were fired. Now, I usually come in to say hello to the bouncers, and to flirt and fondle some of their cute employees like Chris, Scott, Kelly and Jude (although not so much Jude, cause I'm mad that he fired the busboys without asking me if it would impact me in any way).
Oh, and I have to go shopping for my Sassy Prom outfit. I don't think I can do the drag thing for that. I was thinking of a simple and masculine Tom Ford'esque outfit, with a extra little bling to reflect my personality. Maybe a formal, French cuff, tuxedo shirt, accessorized with my white gold & baguette cut cuff links, with a very low open collar. I could accent it with my radiant cut shirt studs. That reminds me, If I'm going to try to mimic the Tom Ford look, I better schedule my Mystic Consultation so that we can get the perfect schedule and recipe for my Mystic Spray / Tanning Bed cocktail. Then I need to buy a new tiara, cause it’s not a prom unless I’m wearing a tiara. Damn! I just don’t have time for all of this. Anyway...
OMG. I can't believe I wrote all that! I haven’t done that in a while. That was very cathartic. I need to update my blog and resume writing about my outrageous escapades, you know, the real Confessions of a Socialite Extraordinaire. But you know, I’m not one to gossip, so you did not hear that from me.
Love ya. Kisses. Muah!
Jonathan Chang ~ Socialite Extraordinaire.
i met him @ a club. (that' s the PG story) R will come another time
wow that was the longest most obnoxiously lame name droppy boring comment i have ever encountered in all of blogland. who is this self-proclaimed socialite loser? honey you know if you have to say it about yourself, it's not true.
Owch! When blog commenters attack.
I just have to say, not in relation to this post, GO KATHARINE MCPHEE!! She kicked ASS last night.
What would your American Idol audition song be Willam? (And when are you starting to work on Nip/Tuck again?)
The world needs to start using the "pork" as a verb more often. Thank you Willam's boyfriend.
Prolly met his boyfriend at a bath house. Hope you used 5 condoms and wore foot protection. Place is a breeding ground for all kinds of ickyness and diseases that infect the nether region.
hey anonymous.
i think it's hilarious that you would post that (considering the fact that i can delete anything i want and ban your IP address and anything in it's vicinity if i want).
but you know what. i'll leave. I'm very open about my life. I worked in a bathhouse called LR Fitness in Philadelphia when i was 17 and got fired for not cleaning and turning on all the over head lights @ 3 am on a saturday night because people kept moving trashcans that i got to trip on.
here's an idea. if you don't like me, or my blog, don't read it. Why waste time on expelling your negativity on me? Lord know's i'm pessimistic enough.
thanx and have a blessed day (if you get past the whole fact that you're an asshole thing)
p.s. we met @ micky's. i was working and i had to put some posters up in the neighborhood. he helped me tape stuff to telephone poles. it's really a lovely story.
Hey anonymous, why don't you go pork yourself?
Heh, heh. I'm so witty.
A couple of things:
1. I cannot wait to hear the lovely story of how you met your BF at Mickey's putting up posters, though I think it probably deserves its own blog entry. (Then again, I also think it's fun when bloggers hide gems in their comment threads, because then the blog readers who are also faithful comment readers get a little gift.)
2. I agree with the aitch that we should all use the word "pork" as a verb more often.
3. Willam, I think that you rock. And you're hot. And you've got a lucky boyfriend.
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