Rejuvenated and Inspired

Well, was it everything I'd imagined? Mmmmmmm, yes, no, and maybe. Friday, I spent 90 minutes in south T-town traffic. Next time you must drive like an asshole, remember, there are people on the highway more important than you. If you have to wreck your car, try not to wreck my plans. In spite of the irritating delay, I still managed to get to the club on time, smelling good and feeling frisky. Thanks mind control! I had my usual peeps in tow, minus Hawkeye, plus a new guy you've yet to meet, plus one parasitic prick. The prick is Mark, no nicknames afforded when you're a fucking idiot asshole. The cool new guy is I.R.A., he plays drums like I play The Game, with passion and accuracy. We all had a great time, despite some of my favorite girls being absent. One of the great things about clubs like Safari, they have fine ass girls to spare. Word. Friday night ended perfectly, at 4am on Saturday morning, like it should. I didn't spend too much money, may have drunk too much tequila, but definitely had more fun than you did. I was gonna come home Saturday afternoon, but the bronco needed some of my skills and money(not unlike the girls in P-town), so another day was needed to accomplish all tasks. Me, 2Lo, X, and I.R.A. spent Saturday jammin music and leering at the betty next door(X or 2Lo should tap that shit). Fixing my ride and finding some food took time and effort, plus we had to ditch Mark, who mistakenly thought we wanted him around. After the truck was fixed, the asshole ditched, and the food consumed, we pondered the possibilities of an extra night in the city. The guys(X and 2Lo) were having serious problems getting their balls out of their purses, so we settled for a couple of movies, instead of groovin with beautiful, naked, young strippers(I was out-voted 2 to 1). The first flick, Flight of the Phoenix, was conceived by someone who takes bong-hits every single breath, instead of mixing in air once in a while,which is what I recommend to retain cognitive skills. This impairment may suit writing a comedy or porno, but an action flick needs connections to reality, in order to remain believable. The movie was so implausible, that it actually morphed into a mildly entertaining comedy. If the writers meant to do that, nice work. Friday Night Lights, the second gem, was a bummer from beginning to end. If this turd accurately represents going to high school in Texas, we should hawk that shithole state back to the Mexicans, shortening the drive to score drugs from our southern neighbors. After movie time, X and I ate chicken till midnight, then X somehow cheated at Madden2005(damn you X, damn you). The night was over, so X and his pooch Malmsteen retired to their room. I hit the couch. 2Lo didn't even make it to the second flick, but that's okay, I don't take attendance on movie night, it's an elective. Once I was asleep, my subconscious treated me to a fantastic dream, in which I nailed Ashley Simpson(repeatedly of course), lived in an apartment, and went to a Damien Rice concert. Now say what you will about Ashley's singing(or lack there of), brandensbaked will vouch for some of her other wonderful talents you may not have been aware of. For example; doing me in my dream, having soft skin, and smelling terrific, to name a few. She made a vanilla night of icky sleep, swellingly bonerific. Morning barged in like it always does, so after a hot shower and a cup of 2Lo's famous "blacker than a labradors sphinxter" coffee, I bid my hosts farewell. The drive back to the land of five dollar alcohol free drinks and jacked up VIP rooms, was straight through and uneventful. Two hours and thirty-nine minutes of doing long division in my head, deciphering personalized license plates, and polishing up on my mind control skills, at seventy-five miles per hour. With another successful pilgrimage to the land of milk and honeys on the books, I once again look forward to guiding my flock on our spiritual journey of enlightenment. In other news, look for my upcoming essay entitled: "Stripclub deejays, why won't they shut the fuck up and stay out of the show?" It should be ready for print within the next week. Remember the brandensbaked motto: "Keep your head on strait, your eyes on the prize, live your life like a rockstar, or just read up on mine." Until next time... Peace and titties.