Saturday, February 26, 2011

Wrath of the Iron Goddess

If ya'll checked the Twitter, you should know that Duke is currently incapacitated due to the effects of a concussion/blunt trauma. Personally, I thought he just blacked out... but then I noticed his head looked like Sloth from the Goonies, so I took him over to the hospital to get stuff checked out. To satiate your thirst for posts, here's a recap of our best I can remember...

After we sat down and drank the Iron Goddess's ashes, we thought we'd go for the Four Loko effect and get drunk while caffeinated. Where else should one get drunk in Madison than The Blue Velvet? It has cosmo specials, loud music, and frat boys who don't know how to handle their money. Basically, it's a bar known for attracting girls who want to make poor life decisions. Who knows, maybe we'd end up finding a girl who'd be legitimately intelligent and liked /t/. Challenge accepted.

So we got in around 9 and grabbed a couple seats at the far side of the bar since the place was filling up early. Not 5 seconds later, Duke is over at a booth hitting on some coasties. As I prayed for him to get syphilis that night, he walked back over and asked, "Yo, Tea_Pain, go get the cheapest girly drinks you can find and join my ass over there." So I, being the logical wingman here, ordered a couple Smirnoff Ices for the ladies and, though I thought I should present Duke with each of them, I decided to let him see another day.

If I remember right, this is about the time Duke pulled out a couple tabs and dropped them in the girl's drinks. There is no human way those girls saw what he did. The man is a stud for a reason. We chatted up the coasties, drank our beers and, for about a half hour, we had a good time. Alluva sudden, the group's ogre/gatekeeper/crusher of dreams decided that she was bored and wanted to go upstairs and dance. Duke and I, being the gentlemen that we are, told the girls to finish the drinks they barely touched. We're not made of money, damn it, so this should be a special occasion for them. Two of the coasties each got on one knee in front of us and said, "You've been iced."

/T/sus. Fucking. Christ.

Duke and I both kinda stared at them like they were handing us liquid death. I imagine we gave them the same eyes that deer make when you're about to turn them into a hood ornament. Seeing that it would have broken a man law if we didn't take the drinks, we both took the drugged-up Ice's, hesitating like it was pu erh, and chugged them on the spot. Acknowledging defeat, we told the coasties they weren't attractive and we GTFO of there to find less clever womens.

While we waited for the ensuing blackout, we took a bus across campus to Lucky's. From past experience, we safely assumed half of the girls are inbred and the other half drink enough to look pregnant. If they aren't already special in the head, the amount of alcohol they funnel into their gullets will make them speak in tongues. Plus, we knew our competition at this bar would consist of guys covered in deer piss and camo. Seeing a couple of guys who know how to use a straight razor (see: us) might actually get these ladies to class it up a bit. You know, we're just playing our part to make the world a better place. This is our way of bringing humanitarian aide to those in need.

So we're sitting between a couple rednecks and a dartboard. We've been staring at our beers waiting for some ill effect from whatever it was Duke put in those Ice's and I get hit in the fucking shoulder with a dart. I mean, at least the girl who hit me was cute. Damn cute. Like, January Jones in daisy dukes cute. She tried apologizing and gave me some googly, puppy eyes but I just told her how lucky she was she didn't give me tetanus and stuck the dart in the board.

Duke got up to try hitting on other girls, as the night was still young. About now is where my brain started melting. Life went from meh to what the fuck. Lucky's no longer existed and my hands had the ability to taste the air. I was thinking, "This is it. I'm turning into a hippy. My life is over." Then this showed up-
Tea_Pain: "Yup, I'm going to die. I'm going to die. Bitch is on a dragon. Holy /t/sus I'm going to die."
Iron Goddess: "Talk to her"
Tea_Pain: "Wat?"
Iron Goddess: "She wants to talk to you. Talk to her."
Tea_Pain: "Can I have your dragon?"

I was awoken by another dart hitting me in the arm. Seriously, it still looks like a vampire was trying to destroy my tricep. Walking toward me again was dart girl. She said sorry profusely and I told her that if she was really sorry, she'd buy us both a drink. Clearly she meant her apology as she came back with a Guinness...for each of us. Yes, men, girls like that apparently DO exist. Turns out, in my drugged-up stupor, I got her number. Probs went a little something like this:

Tea_Pain: "Yeah, it's actually a requirement that if you talk to me for more than 15 minutes I am getting your number."
Dart girl: "Ok, here. Like!"
Tea_Pain: "Do you like /t/?"
Dart girl: "Like, yeah!"
Tea_Pain: "Aight, I got your number."

I found Duke passed out at a booth with his head on the table. I grabbed him and fuckin like-a-boss-ed out of Lucky's. Challenge defeated.

In other news: Duke hit his head so hard on that table that he suffered a mild concussion. He doesn't remember catching a grenade at Lucky's that night. I imagine he's subconsciously grateful for this. So how'd he almost die? It wasn't the booze or the magic pills or even the first concussion. Rather, it was his swan dive off a snow bank into a fire hydrant on the walk home. Once his ass gets out of the ER, we'll start reviewing /t/ again.

1 comment:

  1. Reading this, I sometimes wish I'd discovered tea in college so that my misadventures back then would have such dimension. (Plus, speaking to an Iron Goddess while drunk would totally make my day.)