"Excuse me, your nipple is in my burrito"

The evening was a typical gathering at F & R. Frozen strawberry margaritas, 8 chicken burritos, and Marco – licking the breast of the female food runner. I wish I was exaggerating… Her name is Fatima, by the way, and she recently had butt implants. She wanted to take us all home to Brazil and dress Marco up in her mother’s dresses…for realz. Seriously, you can’t make this stuff up.

After dinner, as we were exiting the restaurant, a group of probably gay maybe bisexuals walked by. Marco yelled “Hey dirty daddy.” Naturally. The Dirty Daddy turned around and said, “Dirty?” How does Marco respond? “I wish I were your friends bike seat.” Awesome. The arch angle of near gay bashing must have been sitting on Marco’s shoulder, because we weren’t stabbed.

I rode Tim’s bike for half a block. It’s different riding a bike that’s not stationary with hard core techno music in the background. That, and Tim likes to ride with the seat so high up, I thought I was getting a colonoscopy. Probably not a good idea after Tex-Mex.

One drunken T ride home later, we ended up at 130 West Newton to watch the debate. Tim passed out “Palin Bingo” sheets. Set up like a bingo board, it basically had catch phrases like Maverick, Main St, Special Needs, etc…and you won if you got 5 across, down, etc. Zoeller won, I didn’t. The debate was still interested and Palin did better than I expected. I also drank a bottle of Chardonnay.

Because I didn’t want to drink and go to Estate last night, I ended up drinking and going to Estate last night. A litre of Strawberry Margaritas and a bottle of $7 wine go great with a Long Island Iced Tea, made with the alcoholic abandon of a gay club bartender. So yeah, I could only do that one drink. I danced with Marco, molested Tim, and pretty much had a typical night at Estate. Oh, I also said hi to Carson from Queer Eye. For the second time at Estate. He said “Hi.” And I said “Hello again, Carson.’ He looked a little confused. Then he went and danced with some hot 20 yr old tall boi on the dance floor. Oh well, Queer Eye is SO 2003.

Today, woke up wicked tired, and that was the worst of my hangover. Got through work, and now I’m enjoying the MBTA train to Newburyport, where I can spend a relaxing evening with my parents, watching 3rd Rock from the Sun DVD’s at 100 decibel volume and going to be at 8pm. Good times.