Saturday, December 23, 2006

Return of The Hoff

Leaving a Bash thrown by The Hoff regularly occurs in the early hours of the morning, when being more fatigued than drunk is the case. I never tire of attending shindigs in the LBC, especially when they're extra qualified by favored partner-in-crime Lara.
The Jacuzzi got going full swing after a couple hours filled with heavy drinking and other debaucherous behavior unbecoming of a gentleman.
Of course, research has repeatedly shown that the moment beautiful women enter a Jacuzzi, it's soon followed by all the dudes rushing to get in. This night was no different.

Since it was early enough, I decided to join in on a friendly game of poker. I won $20 by playing at a superior level, backed up by the targeted trash talk I exhibited to firmly get into everybody’s head. “I promise to make this a quick game” and “I’m glad you guys are giving me some money” were the well represented quotes utilized.
The Hoff took over as DJ during the poker game, confidently showcasing skills I wasn’t aware of, diverting attention from the other players, a feather in my cap.
DJ is a post normally held honorably by his thug of a roommate Ronny, a person of great stature who I do not expound upon enough. He could be the glue that holds this precious community together, a legend in his own right, somebody I look up to with respect.
Ronny hung out by the bonfire most of night, reveling in the beauty of his humble abode with proper libations and broads.

The one girl I really enjoyed was Kiki, whose sardonic humor elevated my wicked buzz immensely.
We talked about the weather, the year in music and film, how many drinks we'd each consumed, and best of all, our practical outlook on the new year. I guaranteed she would find herself a lover, that she's one of the few cool chicks not taken by some useless bastard. My appreciation for her no nonsense approach grew when she said, "Keeping men isn't a problem, it's wanting to."
Wayne stuck around briefly, disappeared after receiving this mysterious phone call, left out the backdoor wordless, a quality ripcord.
Calls later made to him were not immediately returned.

The holiday season seems to always unearth the alleged champions of years past, who return to southern California to dust off old trophies and resurrect historical glories in a matter of days. Of the many returning into action briefly, Marty returned from Hawaii with a new outlook on existence, firmly grounded in his lifestyle compared to indiscretions that previously sank him in the eyes of the circle.
“Now I surf, teach scuba lessons after learning how to dive, surf, and I bartend in Lahaina,” he said with passion. “The girls are awesome over there.”
He once earned a solid reputation as the guy you keep your girlfriend away from, because he’d probably have sex with her behind your back without qualms. Real winner.
Completely thrashed from the excursion south and drinking all their booze, so I crawled into my bed at sunrise, formed a bodily ball of myself, woke up into hatred at 5pm. Final preparations for Christmas are difficult to realize, with Saturday palpably left behind as day of nothing but sleep and watching Cops and Cheaters later tonight.

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