Don’t you hate when a good friend of yours will not return an email. Now I know in this busy world we live in that some things can be overlooked or just put off to later do to time restraints. But to respond to an email takes so little time and one would hope that anyone would take the time to respond, if just to let people know you are still alive. So my question is what punishment should be given to these evil people?
I think they are in need of a spanking…and after the spanking it’ll be time for the oral sex…
But that’s just me
BTW…vidad, bite me, chew toy.
Hell of an entrance, me boy. Welcome!
I got e-mail… maybe it’s just you…
You know, it’s awfully rude of you, vidad colek, to start a thread called Tequila Mockingbird.
You see, when my brother and I were in San Antonio a couple years back, we went to this incredibly cool dive bar on the riverwalk called Tequila Mockingbird. The band absolutely rocked, they were a bluesly trio of kids who had enough soul for both Nutty Professor flics. The singer would wail away on his axe while belting out the best rendition of Tracy Chapman’s Gimme One Reason to Stay Here, and round after round of Tecate seemed to flow from the bar like mana from some alcoholic heaven. All of this, whilst playing a very competitive game of cricket with three very attractive (read: hot and lonely) young ladies. We eventually started to bet sexual favors. While a gentleman does not relate details of such escapades, I’m no gentleman. Between the five of us, we learned that there are actually 16 ways from Sunday, and also 3 little known ways from every alternate Tuesday. To quote the Beastie Boys: “I got 3 girlies back at the hotel, and we all switch places when I ring the bell”.
So, when I see Tequila Mockingbird as a thread title, I immediately think that one of those ladies has tracked me down for a paternity suit. I think that I somehow left without paying the tab and they have found me to break all my joints in alphabetical order. I think that someone else has been to that incredible place and wants to rant and rave about how cool it is, and we can officially determine that the place has some magical properties that grant the wildest fantasies of working joes such as myself.
But no, you have to go and piss and moan about e-mail and friends not returning your e-mail and so on and so forth like it has anything whatsoever to do with Tequila Mockingbird, that most hallowed of bars, may alcoholics swill hooch from it’s splintery surface for untold millenia.
And what’s the deal with vidad colek? It sounds like some sort of cross between a european back-hair shampoo and a long-distance service commercial. Either that, or it’s Klingon for “ass-wipe”.
In short, DON’T START A THREAD WITH THIS TITLE UNLESS YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT MY FAVORITE BAR IN THE WHOLE WORLD, MONKEY NUTS!
PS - I don’t know you, so just in case you don’t get it: Just Kidding.
Welcome to the pit, to the dope, and I hope you have a good time and a great stay.
**note: While I am kidding, the anecdote, including the name of the bar and it’s location and everything else, is totally true. If you are ever in San Anotonio, go there. You won’t regret it.
And I also forgot to ask:
Hey Tristan, how’s Isolde?
<<Cackle>> Who else would make such a brilliantly sublime reference but… Lexicon.