04 July 2010

chinga tu sierra madre

So Russ and I are in Old Town Pasadena to meet another couple on a late Saturday nite and decide to stop off at a place called Brix 42 for a drink afterwards. We sit at the bar and a latin number who's bartending comes over to Russ and says "So where's my leftovers?" Talking like he's some pretty girl talking to a horny business man who just flew in from Wyoming (has a tattoo above his left tit and showing maximum cleavage with this tight white cotton shirt). I don't care because I don't think he's hotter than I am and I have gosh darn beautiful pecs with nips the size of silver dollars the lop wish he had. I give batty boy a look like "are you kidding with this?" Of course Russ is flattered because the guy has the look Russ is crazy about (dark hair/eyes olive-ish skin, a male senorita to Russ's all-American cowboy). I'm not mad at Russ, I'm mad at the gall of this Lupe for acting like he could be so bold in how he was getting personal info on Russ like it's their first date (I don't find the guy the least attractive because I'm not interested in mirror images of myself, the height of narcissism). As I'm watching this little spectacle unfold before me, I'm thinking the whole time of that tag on our bedroom levolor blinds that says; "Cords and Bead Chains can loop around the neck and choke."


  1. Oh hells yeah!
    You betta choke a bitch!
    I'll start digging a spic shaped hole in the desert . . .

  2. I don't know what bugged me more, him flirting with Russ or him thinking his cutesy talk is going to make Russ stutter over his words because he thinks she's so gorgeous. Only one time did I use my "girl charms" to get what I wanted and it was getting a cute bouncer to give up his barstool for me outside of Fubar while waiting for a cab. We ended up leaving Brix and going here, my new favorite place.


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