Oh well, I guess I'd better get drunk again.
I think I'm one Miller High Life away from death. I'm virtually sure of it. Two nights in a row staying up past midnight and I feel like the mug shot of Nick Nolte after his DUI arrest. At one point on Saturday night, I was in the back of a limo with a bunch of hot chicks. I know because I have photos in my phone of hot chicks in the back of a limo and I'm pretty sure nobody else had my phone. As promising as that sounds, I assure you the magic did not continue. The limo deposited us at some high end club with velvet ropes, large bouncers, high cover charges and stuffy people half my age. I don't do too well at these joints. I like to kick over rope stands, fear most bouncers, abhor cover charges and like low-brow sports bars with people Tanner's age. A few rye on the rocks later, I decided to get some fresh air and bum a smoke. That was the end of my night. The huge bouncer behind the velvet rope charging the giant cover strongly suggested I not come back into his club. I agreed, hopped in a cab and took the lonely ride with my tail tucked between my legs. Oh, I didn't bother informing any of my buddies that I was 86ed, so when I woke up, there were dozens of calls and texts wondering where I went and if I was okay. Yup....still got it.