The Ever Popular Weekend Recap

Although I look like I have two black eyes due to lack of sleep and my spike is so freaking dry right now as I am still dehydrated, it is all worth it after the weekend just had. I would say that was easily the best weekend I've had since I've been in NYC and probably in the top 4 of the past calendar year, coming in slightly behind the weekend in which I watched the entire 27 hour set of Season 1 of the O.C.

It all began with a last minute visit to NYC from Boston by the inimitable H-Town. A veteran of all past Buckwheat shows, H called me at 7:15 that morning to tell me he was making the trek in honor of Bucker. Conrad came over after work and H arrived around 8pm and we boozed with Co like it was Braemore 2002 again. Typical wardrobe for Buck shows is full suit, in order to be the sharpest looking groupies for this 60 year old African American accordion wizard. Taking it a step further this year was the green Masters champion blazer I was rocking, Co in his 50's prom tux, and H in the lobster tie. For the record, H has passed the 250 lb mark and still sweats like me trying to talk to a female. Show was good, albeit a little short, but most striking was the fact that attractive women seemed to dig the Masters jacket. They may or may not have been lesbians now that I think about it, as they disappeared before I had a chance to even open my mouth. After that we were supposed to meet BJ and Shannon at his hotel in the bar downstairs. I called him no less than 14 times over the course of 30 minutes when we didn't see him in the bar and text messaged him at least 5 times. At this point the idea of "him in his room banging his girl since they're staying at a hotel over hanging out with myself, Co, and HTown" was impossible for me to comprehend and I continued to call. We are very drunk at this bar and for the first time in my life I intimidated some dude who insultled my coat. I am a huge pussy most of the time but this guy backed down like Freddie Mitchell in last night's game. He might have been 65 but no matter that. The three of us then proceeded to eat all of the cut up cocktail oranges and olives in huge handfuls. Tex even found remnants stashed in his coat pocket the following morning . Of course we ended our night on Third Ave (the dregs of the earth), wolfing down slice after slice of ziti pizza.

I spent Saturday in a daze, although very much motivated by the weather. I got some photos developed and am looking forward to uploading the famed photograph of the peanut butter and crouton masterpiece which should be submited for some type of art award. College Gameday made my morning as it was on location in CUSE, in the DOME, in preparation for 33,700 record setting fans to converge on the armpit of NY State. Some old big hitters from the high school days were in the city for the night and I luckily got to meet up with them before their concert. Gross, the Dog, and a dose of Trose were a welcome treat to begin my night. I hadn't seen Trose in a few years and he surprised me by not wearing his varsity basketball high tops as he usually does in any social setting, The Dog was well on his way to getting REAL loose early, and even some late night STEINBERG (sans Michael Jordan replica jersey). Good to catch up, but it was time to get ready for the birthday bash.

As I mentioned prior, nobody came to my Welcome to NYC party which was a huge emotional blow. I remained very sketpical of this second get together, and had prepared a quick abort list of bars to head to, if it was a complete disaster. It started out well on the way to my previous experience and I quickly began drinking heavily. In fact, I drank so much Budweiser this weekend that I am contemplating getting a Confederate flag tatooed on my back. To my surprise, the buzzer was constant throughout the night, even I had no idea who it was coming in. I should mention that the little lady that I have been seen out and about with lately was planning to come by with her roommates, so despite Anheuser-Busch's best efforts, I had to try and remain somewhat on my A Game. Since it was his birthday, BJ was the toast of celebration throughout the evening, and even showed up after dinner with a pronounced Thirty Yard Stare. I should've known this would be problematic later in the evening for my behalf, but I happily took the tequila down with him. Sure enough, 30-45 minutes later, with one of the best sets of friendly eyes I had seen in a while, it all came to a screeching halt. In front of virtually everyone at the party, the following interaction occurs:

BJ: (in one his patented "ho-hoooo" voices) JIMMY! Are these girls into Retired at 25 OR WHAT?!!!

BJ's rich.....but not smooth. Naturally they had no idea what he was talking about, since I try to leave that out of any conversastion to save any chance of leading a normal social life with women. I immediately chugged the rest of my beer. My next move was either drink everything in site and hope to blackout within the ensuing 45 seconds or embrace the Retired at 25 and try to explain that I do not spend all day online chatting with babes. As you know, the material on my site is not suited for impressing anyone so I had to wean them on with some of the PG-13 material like the Jersey story and the Welcome to NYC party story. Like a Chrismukkah miracle, they couldn't stop laughing and told me that I am soooo funny and should write for Curb Your Enthusiasm, which completely inflated my ego for the rest of the night and I think everyone wanted to be me. This just proves that being a blogger is the best way to impress women.

Oh yeah, and for the icing on the cake?
PATS YEAR ROUND, BABY!!!!