I kind of cleaned house this Christmas, extremely thankful I’m well-liked enough to plunder so many wonderful presents, knowing that countless people aren’t as fortunate, and some aren’t lucky enough to even get one of these items:
$100 Barnes & Noble Gift Card
$100 Virgin Megastore Gift Card
$200 American Express Gift Card
$475 cold cash
$50 BevMo Gift Card
$50 Borders Gift Card
$50 Gap Gift Card
$50 Macy’s Gift Card
$50 Pottery Barn Gift Card
2 LACMA passes
2007 Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Calendar
3 candles
Adidas T-Mac jump suit, black with red trim (once again pimpin’)
Amores Perros (DVD)
Atlas soccer beanie
Bath & Body Works Willow Bath Basket
Batman Begins (DVD)
Captain Morgan Spiced Rum (the handle, of course)
Contempt (DVD)
Corralejo Tequila
Courvoisier V.S.O.P.
Doobie Pie
Adidas sweatshirt, Grove Street style
Guess? jeans
Moonlighting Season 1 & 2 (DVD)
Okami (Playstation 2 game)
Once Upon a Time in the West (DVD)
Pineau des Charentes 2001
Adidas T-shirt, red w/ black trim
Sauza Tequila
The Road by Cormac McCarthy
The Stewardess is Flying the Plane: American Films of the 70’s (book)
Estimated value of the pillage is around $1,700, not bad, especially considering I didn’t spend nearly as much as I received, although some of the gifts given to me were a courteous thanks for services rendered.
In other Christmas related news, the resurgence of The Detonator has been confirmed by a missed call yesterday at 8pm, which was rapidly returned at 2pm today.
He truly is the gift that keeps on giving. Might forcefully attempt a wild rendezvous tonight, surely with reason out of the question. I alerted him as to the “End of an Era” Bash on Saturday, the one at Hillary’s Surf Shaque in Venice, the last stand before she makes way to Silver Lake. I’m saddened, especially since I never saw anyone fall off her famed rooftop, and the fact her Canada Day party was a major success.
The next day, New Years Eve, is where the real question lies. A Basher true to procedure would ensure that an extravagant number of booze options are open, along with a memorable harem of fine ladies, entertaining folk, and preferably access to a Jacuzzi with champagne on ice nearby.
If transgressions with The Detonator fail to transpire this evening, the Ricky Roma within me will relentlessly begin the yearly call spree in order to determine bold exploits or bring about inspiration with the manically motivated.
After surveying the scene and boldly quaffing numerous liquids, we all hopped into a dangerously driven cab bound for Cha Cha Lounge, a place of previous crimes and misdemeanors, where accidents happen and regrets are hard to come by.
Exploring the outer reaches of the Los Feliz area are beneficial to somebody used to the Westside. The lifestyles can be contrasted sharply, but each has benefits as well as drawbacks. Sexiness is never a drawback, the main reason I relent from the sadly common norm of remaining in a bubble, never going anywhere past 2 miles. Bubbles are boring, and so are a lot of people, so I select my company carefully.
As usual, to assist with maintaining Bash balance and order, The Detonator came armed with passionate daring and Willie Nelson.
In true form that's naturally exuded, staying in style and focusing on the fray was the first and only option in play. Aside from prodigious finesse, The Detonator's art often imitates reality. Everything progressed nicely after entering Cha Cha Lounge and the evening never seemed to peak out.
But before that we briefly waited outside the bar, one that was apparently overcrowded and drawing the ire of local fire authorities, yet the line moved quickly after the once stoic doormen noticed attractive ladies in the back of the line. With that factor competing, it’s good to be part of the group. We briefly spoke to Mike Piazza who was loitering in front of us.
Mike concurred that he, as well as the 30 men in front of us, were very lucky. The line moved deceptively fast, and we were in within minutes to begin causing irreparable liver damage with cheers and laughter.
This particular evening also gave me a chance to showcase the medal I won from running in the Disneyland Half Marathon in Anaheim, a feat that many joyously complemented me on.
I was a winner that day! I was also genuinely stoked when handed red cup, a sign that the bar had been tapped on glassware, probably the result of sneaky bastards stealing while influenced by a drunken daze. Too much fun though, the kind that lingers, like the faint scent of sweet Champagne I shared with the lovely ladies before embarking in the crazy cab, it still comes across my senses. Nights like that, in retrospect, can fulfill your most beautiful dreams of magic. I prompty passed out at 5am.
Then you have to go home, or in my case, you go straight from a comfy couch and unparalleled warmth to Mo’s in Playa Del Rey. Nothing beats watching football and having the greatest taco salad in the entire world or the contagiously yummy popcorn shrimp with house sauce. Plus Mo is always there to tell the best jokes.
After a rare Raiders victory and the best fish 'n' chips ever, I happily engaged Peacock at Sports Harbour to continue some incomprehensible debauchery on an already heavenly Sunday.
It didn't take long for my boldily pains to go away.
