Archive for September, 2006

Happy Hour: Twenty Questions

Sunday, September 10th, 2006

OK.  Really only two.

First: Who out there likes Survivor?  We will be hosting Survivor night here at The Embassy starting this Thursday.  I know I’ve talked to several of you about the dirty backstabbing excitement that is Thursday  Night reality TV, too many cocktails and a feeble mind prevent me from remembering who it was though.


Drop me an email if you would like to join us.  Don’t worry.  It’s like AA.  We won’t tell anyone who we see there.

Second: Who likes Suicide Girls this Friday?  We will be heading to The Independent this Friday night to see the Suicide Girls  (!  WooHoo!  Last time we went to see them we were late and only saw Courtney Love’s Panties.  This time we Will Not Be Late.  To facilite the not being late, we will have snacks and warm up cocktails at Tsunami Sushi.

We will be there from 6:30 until 8:30ish, but leave well before 9.

I will not be stuck, once again, looking at Courtney Love’s Panties when I wanted to see Suicide Girl Panties.  It’s just not the same.

Bombshell Betty Dance Presents!

Friday, September 8th, 2006
Bombshell Betty Dance Presents!
Anyone wanna go with me?  I’m a Burlesquersize Drop Out, so may need to  sit in the back hiding behind a fake mustache, but even so – it should be fun.

Happy Hour: What The Hell You Mean I Need To Check My Scotch?!

Saturday, September 2nd, 2006

Passed Out Drunk

Originally uploaded by Monatopia.

OK. Just kidding on the hiatus thing. We need to go out. We are trying hard to save for a house… so we deciided he best way to to that was to fly to LA and try real hard to save for a house with Frankie and Jody… which means we will probably fail miserably.

Last week… actually, no one will want to hear about last week. We worked hard all week and hadn’t seen each other so we spent the evening in.

Looking at each other. Ahhh… isn’t he cute!

Told you you didn’t want to hear about last week.

How about if I tell you about last night instead. When we arrived at the airport, I had to explain to Scott that the whole “no liquids on a plane” thing was NOT just a Daily Show skit and that he did indeed need to check the big ole bottle of Scotch we were bringing Frankie, not to mention my bag which was half shoes and half bath products, all of which could be considered weapons by airline security at this point.

Snakes on a plane. OK. Bottled water on a plane. Not ok. Scotch on a plane? Nope.

And since it took about 4 minutes per person to get through security, I’m thinking maybe it should have been explained to a few more people. Especially to the women in front of my who was trying to take containers of juice through security and while forgetting to take her laptop out of her backpack. There were actually several things I wanted to explain to her. Like, how it was because of people like her that I got to the airport over an hour early and still almost missed my plane.

Upon arrival Frankie and Jody took us to a place Which We Can Not Name, not because we don’t know the name – cos we do – but because we need to all we can to hide the identity of the horrible “musicians” which we saw there. And plus, you’re not really missing much if you don’t search this place out, and trust, me, you would need to search it out.

Frankie’s band was going on last, so we had the joy of watching the “I Wrote This When I Was Freshmen In High School In 1972 And I’m Still Singing It To You” acoustic set, then the “I’m Too Young To Be In A Bar So I’m Going To Dress In My Grandma’s Dress To Make Myself Look More Mature And Sing Real Pretty While My Creepy *Much* Older Boyfriend Plays The Keyboards Behind Me” duet.

Frankie had to leave the room while muttering something about slitting UP, not across his wrist.

After I received my “cosmo”, I was muttering the same thing.

The band Frankie was playing with was great! ESPECIALLY after being tormented to the tunes of “Be My Angel In The Clouds” and “Stop It, Stop It Now, You’re Killing Me.” I think that even if we had seen Frankie’s band without that prep we would have liked it. Nothing was written by freshmen in high school, nothing was written in 1972, everyone was old enough to be in the bar and wearing their own clothes, oh, and they rocked!

Tonight we are off to “It used to be Flints” which is down the street from Frankie and Jody’s. Here’s Frankie’s invite:

In order to kick off the weekend properly, I’m proposing a happy hour
at the Santa Monica Bar & Grill tomorrow from 5:30-7. So, technically
a happy-hour-and-a-half. That’s how happy it is. Why are we so happy?
Because my brother Scott and his vivacious girlfriend Mona will be
visiting from San Francisco.

After 7, anyone who’s interested can stumble with us down to violet, a
very hip and tasty American tapas restaurant a block or two from the
Santa Monica Bar & Grill (formerly 310, formerly Flint’s, formerly the
Alligator Lounge, on Pico West of Centinella). violet is medium
spendy, as you can tell from the lack of capitalization, but it’s