And now...the blast!

I just had to say my night out was not anything but boring. I had been asking by a real good friend to go out to this club just to get out. I really didn't feel like it but I figured, what the hell...I needed a time out. I'm glad I went because, I have not been able to do any serious people watching and talking about folks who know damn well they ain't suppose to wear what they are wearing and BOY do we have some doozies here ladies and gentleman. But we will get to that later. But first let's get to the CLUB itself.

First of all, when there is a club named after a car, a luxury car at that, chances are it's not going to fit the class of it's name sake. And with a name like Rolls Royce (why do I have that song I Wanna Get Next To You in my head...), you think it's up there with a good name. Hell Naw!!! Rolls Royce Club is more like Club Yugo Or the Broken Down Pinto Club. I mean really, my people how the hell you going to put a club in the middle of a strip mall, next to a Mexican restaurant and an Irish pub. And this is "SUPPOSE" to be a restaurant but when you see the menu. Which was posted on a piece of white construction paper posted on the board. And speaking of posting things, someone needed to give spell check to some folks who wrote signs. This was posted by the door: I you don't not have id, don't do no ins and outs. I kid you not on this one. How many double negatives is in that sentence? Care to count.

Any way, the menu consisted of nachos, colt 45, and cheese fries. Now that is a menu suitable for a 5-star accommodations if there ever was one. Just makes you wanna fork over the cash for it.

Now that the club has been describe - as something that looks like hoodcity. Let's talk about the patrons. Oh the tickets were having to be issued out, before 11:45 mind you were in full effect. Some of the ladies there, heaven help them for they don't know any better...who am I kidding they knew DAMN well what they were doing. But really, I think a majority were the second string from Street Walker Teams that resident in the Harry Hines Section of Dallas. For those who are not aware of that area. It's more like Hooker City and the Hostroll. I think they all took the night off of working the corners and work the club.

And the violators: one and all. There is an old saying: just because they make it in your size does not mean you need to wear it. Now mind you, if you have the confidence to do it and all, by all means do your thing. But, there is a device that you may want to invest in that will make your out going experience a bit more...well appealing. A mirror would do wonders for many folks. I need to throw some instructions in how to use a mirror. If you got things needing to be tucked away, tuck them away mkay. If you need to stuff a bra, don't have the tissue so blatantly obvious that I want to blow my nose. Subtly is our friend. Remember that!

And the makeup. Some don't understand. Less is more. And makeup should be so literal. I was starting to think that Halloween came early because most folks just plastered eyeliner on lipstick painted on their faces. And speaking of eyeliner. Someone please answer me this? Why in all that's green and holy would you shave your eyebrows just to pencil others into it, go into a sweaty club knowing full well it's going to melt and run all over. I mean you look like something from a bad metal video. I'm just saying. Burn victims wear less than some folks.

And the shoes. Now if you going to be hoochie and wear some hooker shoes, at least number 1, learn how to walk in them. Nothing says klutz than trying to walk in shoes that you can't walk in trying to be cute. Because the minute you fall, is the minute I am going to fall down laughing. I have done it before and I sure will do it again. And also, try to get something comfortable. I mean why you going to wear something that's looks like it's going to hurt your bunions over there. I seen many a lady walking like penguins trying to impress the guys and girls there. Only thing that is impressive is that the shoes didn't break because some of those feet were torturing those shoes, begging for release or salvation from the oppressors of the toes.

And the guys there, some days I am almost ashamed of my gender. It just amazes me to see how some guys just approach up and throw the most outlandish lines. Gotta hand it to some of them, it seemed to work but others...it's a true Epic Fail if there ever was one. And most was falling for the lines, smiling and giggling. I hope for their sake it was one of those fake laughs. But it seemed to get them to the dance floor.

Dance floor...this brings me to my WTF! moment of the night. My people, answer this question. Eight grown ass men on the dance floor dancing, probably drunk off patron and henny - or smoking the herbage of 420, and not a single woman between them. Not til at least 5 minutes later when one comes and they surround her like sharks on a carcass. I am almost honor bound to confiscate their man card. And if you dressed like a reject from the thug life hotline, you REALLY need to have your man card repoed.

And the biggest funtime of the night. Oh it was a doozy. Around 11:45 or something the wonderful friends from Dallas Police come in like storm troopers along with the city attorneys office. They were checking for licenses and permits and all that good stuff. Even had a cop get some of the food that was there (what food it is.) can't take the police anywhere. No home training at all. But you would think that it was a warrant roundup or something from all the nervous folks that were around. Never seen so many hood rats and roaches bailing out the door.

Well the DJ took a cue from it and played some Al Green...I gotta give the DJ props Al can make anything sound better but even he can't save that night. Bout midnight after a few fines were issued and from what I heard it's alot. Dallas said close the bars, shut it down! So before midnight, the party was over and a few folks wasn't happy about it. Had to drag one guy out in cuffs and all that. I'm like oh snap they bout to do a Rodney King in Dallas...he was trying to get his club on well now he can be clubbing in the club jail.

Taking the cue, we got the hell out and home. It was good to hang with my friends and not so good seeing some folks I could spent the night now. But, the sheer joy of laughing at some folks in how they behaved and wore, good 3 hours to kill. I so tried to throw a picture or 3 but the lights were too bad to grab anything suitable. I would posted them.

But in short, it was an epic fail night in club yugo and after 11:45 you go out the door cause they shutting it down and the moral to the story - make it a blockbuster night. But, I did get a few giggles from the moronity of social interaction and the hooker fashion show. Now I know what's going to popular for the spring. Better start saving. And I for one shall fight the good fight to put some sensibility to a crazy world.

poor guys on the dance floor dancing alone....give me those damn man cards!


SAW

What a fucked up day..

actually it's been a combination of a few days. Starting with Friday. I was thinking that I would have a snow day with work since I had assumed that since the schools were out so would we. The night before I asked my boss what we were doing since things were planned to be closed. Well she wanted to find out if the building was open and I asked for her to call me if it is so I can come in. Well since I didn't hear from her to see the building open. I didn't go in. But found out that office was open even though it was not suppose to. Already a bad start - I could have went in anyway with the skeleton crew that was there. No sense in trying to deal with that I went home and started my weekend...

fast forward to today. I come in, and had a mountain of emails (lucky I didn't have to process them all) but there were a few from the HR manager and my floor supervisor. I replied to the most obvious question why wasn't I there. And I explained it all and things seemed ok.

The fast forward about an hour later and I get a mail from my boss who happens to be the vice president of the company. Well I get this long, drawn out chewing about why I wasn't there and a misunderstanding about why I didn't show up. I explained everything. And she did say that I won't get paid or have my PTO. And I really thought that I was going to lose my job...which I still think I may. Only reason I haven't was cause the one person who could done my job is off for the next two days. And we are having audits and shit going on so I think by that grace alone I may have a job. But that's just fucked in the ass man.

And then the mail I had to sort out and get ready. Almost 1200 letters. WHAT THE FUCK MAN!!! I had to work through lunch to get it all done. And still only had 10 minutes to spare.

Now I am getting off work and I can't wait til Friday so I don't worry bout my job. Or losing it for that matter. Now I know why Mondays suck ass as they do. And I wanna take this sorry ass band from freecreditreport commercials and beat the holy hell out of them. I mean really if you can't fix your credit doing what you doing, slang some crack. I mean really though.

Anyhoot...I'm calling it a day. I need some sleep and back onto the grind stone tomorrow. Til then...

SAW

So close...

to the most evil of all days. The one day out of the year where relationships and love has a price tag. I am in the process of doing everything I can to boycott it. Hell I wish the President or Congress will just disallow this day from happening. I mean really. Who benefits from this demonic day. Florists, candy makers, and jewelers. Oh yeah that card company for folks who are too damn cheap to get the previously mentioned. But rest assured, I shall have something: cynical, cold, and callous to describe this day. I promise you that. Fuck that damn damn damn (Like Florida) day!