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2003-03-08 - 10:57 a.m.

It was a crazy night. I laughed so hard I am feeling it this morning.

Karaoke was involved. I did a rather poor rendition of Punk Rock Girl, but didn’t care.

It was one of those nights that can’t be adequately described. It was a night that you had to be there for. To understand the subtle nuance involved. I don’t know if I’m up to that task.

The day started early, with me dealing with issue after issue at work. There is actually good work news. The VP wants to hire me on as a training consultant after I’m laid off. So, I have another quarter of employment. I like the thought of billable hours. Perhaps I’ll get business cards drawn up. So, cheered by that little bit of news, I jetted off to San Francisco. EB spread a rumor around the office that I was going for a job interview. We’ll see how that plays on Monday.

I took Weetabix to IKEA where she purchased nothing and I ended up with a new nightstand. Then we went to Fisherman’s Warf for lunch. Had delicious Lobster Bisque. Did some touristy sightseeing. It was a light fluffy afternoon full of precious moments. Then Mo called and suddenly there was the hard guitar riff splitting our eardrums as the evening spun into the most incredibly entertaining night of my adult life. Stopping at USF to pick up the lovely Jen we jetted off to the Stinking Rose in North Beach for dinner where our soundtrack was the as seen on TV compilation “Roller Skate Anthems”. There was some drama when both Mo and Jen wanted to couple’s skate with Weet. Jen’s pasta won the award for best entrée although there was much discussion about Weet’s meatloaf. And so many saucy comments my mind fails to recreate them all. Dinner was delicious, the car ride to the Mint was incomparable. Some highlights:

“You listen to this shit?”

“I’m Irish”

“It’s like giving birth, only the opposite”

Arriving at the Mint, Mo invoked the powers of Satan, who it seems is in charge of parking whilst in San Francisco and thus we were ensured a spot right where we wanted to be. We traipsed into the bar full of people not as cool or attractive as us and thus we passed our evening singing. I did a rather poor rendition of Punk Rock Girl, but that doesn’t really matter because it’s not like the singing is that great on the original. Mo and Jen sang the Gambler. Weet sang Natalie Merchant. I had to defend my foreplay skills. I have mad foreplay skillz. I discovered that planning an orgy is very difficult. There was a girl who looked remarkably similar to the JB. She sang a song from Chicago and thought she was far better than she actually was. We were a dervish of wit and laughter in a vortex of fun. We even managed to leave before hearing “The Rose”.

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