Oh What a Night

The after effects of my alcohol consumption are spanking me like a disobedient kindergartner right now. Strangely I did not awake with a headache or even dehydration. It is now 3:15 pm and my head feels like ass. Man that sucks donkey dick.

Sultan and I went out with his sister, Yasmin, and her husband, Tarik, who have been visiting from Saudi Arabia for the past few weeks. My brother, Andy, and his wife, Keisha, also joined us. When in doubt for a good time and great food, sushi is always my first pick. The whole vibe of Sushi Samba Rio is the shit. We have been there several times over the past few years. We sucked down caprahinas (think Brazilian mojitos) and a big bottle of cold sake like it was our job and we were going to get promotions for being boozehounds. You can tell when I get a little booze in me because I am super friendly with people around me. Sultan and I were at the far end of the table, adjacent to the next table of people. We were chatting it up, offering sips of our sake right from the bottle. These girls had to be all of 21, maybe if their ID's weren't fake. They thought we were the shit. The next table that was seated there did not act so friendly. Fuck you, I say to them. Sultan felt awkward after saying hello to them. I suggested he make it all better by touching my boobies. Yes, at the table in a very crowded restaurant. That's how I roll--inappropriate at every turn. The Loser Table was slack-jawed in disbelief at my audacity. So we had to do it like three more times. Go big or go home, I always say.

In the back of my mind I though, "You know, Sweet Tits, you sort of wanted to ride your bike early tomorrow. Maybe you should lay off the booze or you will be hurting!" But alcohol impairs my listening skills when it comes to that Voice of Reason. Fast forward one coconut lime mojito, some crazy fruity shot, and an Effen Black Cherry vodka and soda later. Uggghhhh. Was that it or am I forgetting something? We were at Martini Park, a bar loaded with at least four bachelorette and one or two bachelor parties. One of the bachelorette parties ended up hating us because let's face it, we were three HOT couples. And do you know what they were? COWS. When you're "Bride-To-Be" sash is tugging across your size 18 t-shirt from Torrid, well it is plain gross. We sort of made fun of how it would be to dance with her and some of the equally tub-o-tronic bridesmaids saw us. Whoops. They shot us dirty fat looks all night. Hey, anyone can join a gym or buy a treadmill and skip McDonald's for dinner four times a week. I'm just saying...

We danced to a decent cover band but there choices in music blasted me back to the eighties, and the not the part I wanted to remember. I was more into the alternative music scene in a time when hair bands rules. I don't care who I offend by my honesty.... I do not like nor have I ever liked Bon Jovi, Poison, Motley Crue, Def Leppard, Whitesnake, or any of their kind. Sorry. I heard some Poison last night. I was clearly inebriated enough to feel the need to move. Maybe that's why my head hurts still. I need Advil and a Depeche Mode Greatest Hits album....