My sister Lizard and her boyfriend took Captain Carl and I out for dinner on Saturday night. We went to this cool place in Dallas because Lizard won a four course dinner there for four people. And since we were eating for free, we drank expensive drinks and ate overpriced food and then had s'mores for dessert. $14 s'mores. I guess they cost $14 because the marshmallows were homemade and they were orange and mango flavored and also they brought us our own little campfire and put it on our table for us to light our marshmallows on fire and then laugh hysterically while we waved them over our heads and yelled "Yee haw, motherfuckers!!". Cause we're classy like that and also we might have been drunk.
The place was pretty cool and therefore we totally did not belong there. But I think we disguised our uncoolness really well. The Captain and I decided to wear crocs and t-shirts that said "I'm with stupid" with an arrow pointing to each other. Except we sat on the wrong sides and so our arrows were pointing in opposite directions and made it look like we were referencing the people sitting at the other tables and how do you know they weren't stupid? so shut up. My point is that we so totally blended in with the hip crowd that people kept coming up to me and asking "Are you Lisa Loeb?" and I would answer "Yes I am" and then I would autograph their napkins with "Your mom stays. Love, Lisa".
Lisa Loeb is still hip, right?
Here's a pic of the restaurant. What you can't see is Captain Carl just off to the left swinging his flaming marshmallow around like a lasso. Good times.
So then we convinced Lizard and her man to come with us to the jazz club. They hung in for about an hour and then decided to leave. Too bad for them, because they missed out on the best thing that happened all night. You're probably thinking what could be more awesome than mango s'mores? and I will admit the s'mores were great, but they ain't nothin' compared to this.
Well hi there old people! Hey, you know how you're sitting at one of those high tables with the stools? And you know how most everyone else in the place is sitting in booths that are way lower than your table? Yeah maybe next time not so much wine drinking, huh? Because I didn't come here to see you two old geezers drunkenly groping each other. And hey old lady? Ass crack is really not sexy enough to shove your hand down into in public. I mean, it's no boob cleavage. I wouldn't know (thank God), but I bet sweaty old man butt doesn't exactly smell like roses. Just sayin'.
P.S. Two more days until the moron twins move out! Squee!!!
My First Huffington Post Piece
2 weeks ago