Posts tagged with beer

It’s All About You, Baby!

Everything worthwhile will have its dilettantes!

Discos are a great example. Most people go to the disco to shake their ass. A lot of people go to the disco to find dates. That’s all fine and dandy, as long as you find your date while dancing. Or after you’ve danced for a while and you’re catching your breath.

Whatever you do, the first reason for your being in a disco should be dancing. That’s it. If you’re hoping to pick up someone, that’s fine too. Just don’t let that be the ONLY reason you’re there.

I say this because, if that is indeed the case, you probably don’t like dancing all that much. You’ll probably end up just standing there, creepishly checking out all the other people who are having fun. It’s just like going to the library to pick up a person. It only works well if you actually like reading. Otherwise you’re a fraud. People will see through that, eventually. And even if they don’t, what kind of relationship are you really starting? A one night stand? A one-weeker? Probably shallow, meaningless relationship?

Are you that desperate?
The best way to pick up people is by doing the things YOU like! If you don’t like to dance, don’t go to discos. If, however, you like football, go to the game. You’re bound to make a hell of a lot more new friends that way. If you like beer, you’ll probably feel right at home in a pub. And that’s where you’ll probably find your next date. And if you do, you’re probably great for each other, since you met each other doing something you both enjoy.

Don’t be the fucker in the disco that just sits by the dance floor, drooling over the tits and sweaty necks. Don’t be the fucker who goes to the opera just to be seen coming out of the opera house. Don’t be the fucker who grows long hair just because you think you’ll be a smash with the ladies. Don’t get your boobs done if you’re actually a bookworm.

Don’t try to be someone else to get a date. You’ll be left with nothing. Enjoy yourself, and those who matter will love you for it.

Posted on the 19th of October, 2009 | 17 Remarcable Comments

Football Blogmeet

Boy did we ever play football.

There were three types of players on the field:
The girls, with unbeatable tactics, and desirable decorations.
The boys, who played football when they were little, had fancy footwork and could score with their head.
And then there were the pussies, who spent their childhood pastime doing something else, apparently.

Naturally, I was the only one who fell into the latter category. That, and my disputed red/pink t-shirt accounted for my being on the girls’ team.
I was quickly joined by Moroi as goalkeeper and Cata, to even things our against te lads’ team.

I managed to score the first goal for the lasses, when it was three-null, after a very inspired pass from Dora. That was awesome, considering I had not scored since I was twelve or thirteen.

We had our fair share of injuries. Moroi was the first to fall, because of his bad knee. Then I had a massive collision with Dani. I was ok, but his nose was broken after that. I’m still sorry about that one, Dani. Rob, the blogless bit a chunk out of Cata’s shoulder when they collided, but they were both ok five minutes later.

The final score was ~~14 or 15 all~~… 10 all apparently, but that didn’t really matter. The funnies, the ‘marking’, the joy and the continuous running, or walking, we had outweighed the official result.

All stinky and sweaty, we then moved to Porto Arte. I got there and left right away, since my parents had just returned from their trip. So, while the footballers were all getting tipsy, celebrating their sore muscles, I was home, getting drunk with my folks.

I had a great time, all sores included. So I’d like to thank everyone. In no particular order, the players: Andrea, ily, Anda, Dora, Dani, Cata, Tomata, Paul, Ovi, Richie, Nuzzu, Luci, Rob, Moroi and yours truly.

I’m now waiting for the official ‘Zelist‘ from the blogmeet, the cheering fans list, and for pics from the game.

Posted on the 28th of September, 2009 | 10 Smart Comments

Open House

Yeah, that’s right. I’m home alone this weekend.

So, while you poor saps are out, paying good, hard-earned cash for your drinks, I’m enjoying a home-made Cuba Libre. Also, I’m TNM.

The thing is: you can come over. My address is written in full on my facebook profile, and with a little guidance from me, I’m sure you’ll make it.

You can drop by any time starting today and ending Sunday at noon. I do need to get ready for the big match; you know?
This is an open invitation to anyone who wants me to mix them a drink or watch me code in the nude.

One piece of bad news, though. My microwave’s busted, so we’ll have to do without.
Bonus points if you have a guitar and amp! Or drums. Or beer.

Posted on the 25th of September, 2009 | 2 Intelligent Comments

The Women of Timisoara

… are pussies!

Well, ok, not all. Tomata, ily, Anda and Dora have balls, apparently.

As you may know, there’s a football match coming up this Sunday, lads versus lasses. The lads’ team is all set, naturally. The girls, initially numerous and fond of the proposal, are now nowhere to be found.

Why?

I only managed to get ONE other girl thinking about coming. It’s way easier to get laid with a total stranger than to persuade a girl to play in a football match. Football match for fun, at that. Because having fun is what it really is all about.

If the hilarious image of me, all sweaty, out of breath and in shorts is not enough, then do it for the ladies, who need a teammate. That means you! Or your girlfriend.

Update:

Andrea has joined the lass’ team! Andrea, aka the ONE other girl I got thinking about coming, also has balls, so us guys are screwed! Thank, hon!

Posted on the 24th of September, 2009 | 23 Sexy Comments

A Special Kind of Beer

Last night, I did something I had not done in years.

I willingly attended the local Beer Fest. Things have definitely changed since the last time I went there.
For one thing, if you order more than two mugs of beer, you get a free carton to carry them in. I thought this was something that should have been invented and used ten years ago ( when I attended my first Beer Fest without my folks )

Another thing that’s changed is the number of hillbillies that attend. Last night, I did not see as many drunkards. Maybe it was because I didn’t mingle that much too. Granted, there was one couple of drunkards that stood out. They were really old, say around 50, and looked really poor. I noticed them because they were right next to me at one point, and because the woman’s face was all black and blue. In spite of her not being able to blink, the two seemed quite in love, in their own special way.

Another thing that’s changed is the reason for my being there. I used to go for the music. Over the years, both I and the music have changed. A lot. So it’s only natural that music alone could not bring me there anymore. No. This year, it was for the people. Beautiful, troubled, open and humane people.
So, thank you Ovi, Raka, Tomata plus one, Richie, Tudor, Bloodie, Rob the blogless and Bloo — nice to finally meet you, by the way.

A special thanks goes out to Owen, his wife and father in law, who joined us in a couple of Irish drinking songs, and spoke really proper English to me.

We’ll be doing this again tonight, so join us if you will. We’ll be the loud, happy bunch.

Posted on the 18th of July, 2009 | 10 Brilliant Comments

Thievery Tips

This is for the two guys that tried to mug me a few days ago.

To cut to the chase, I was walking the streets of Barri Gothic in Barcelona, alone, mildly inebriated, at night.
At one point, I took out my cell phone to check the time. It was 02:47.

While I was tucking my P1i back into my front pocket, I noticed the guy next to me was ogling it. Obviously, I got to thinking bad thoughts, but I kept on walking. As I took two more steps, a garbage truck pulled up to my left, isolating me from the other side of the street which, for some reason, was not as empty as the side I, well we were on.

At that point, the dude from my right swiftly moved in front of me and slapped me on the chest, making me stop. Mistake number one, dumbass!
The garbage truck provided perfect cover. A mugging is successful only if you use the element of surprise, meaning acting before the victim realizes what’s going on. I was already alert after I caught you looking at my phone and you used the single opportunity to catch me by surprise and… slapped me on the friggin’ chest? Pathetic piece of shit! What you should’ve done was to hit me in my face, preferably an uppercut to the jaw. That would’ve made me lose my clarity for a while.

Then, the jerk-off from in front of me starts shouting out to the other guy something, in some oriental tongue, which in my mind I translated to: “He has a cool phone, get it! Get it!”
Mistake number two! Get it from where, you dumb fuck? Thankfully, the other dude, which had moved up to my right in the meantime, had some presence of mind and decided he had no other chance but to hit me.

As I turned to him, I noticed his fist making its way through the air, destination: my left eyebrow. The problem was I really had a grip on what was happening and decided to dodge that fist. And that was it. I used the momentum from dodging the fist to turn around and.. run away.

Mistake number three. I’m a fucking tourist, where in the fuck am I going to run to? Still, you didn’t follow me and decided to see about your way on the dark, empty side of the street. And that’s how I kept my dear phone, while you felt a deep sense of criminal incompetence.

Still, Barcelona rocked!

Posted on the 21st of April, 2009 | Comments Off

The 12 Minute Hourglass

Yesterday was a great Sunday, safe for the part when I had to bury a kitten.

The highlight of the day was going out — in the afternoon(!) — with Ovi and Andreea. We went to Porto Arte, which, a couple of years ago, became a good place to have a drink.

I got there first, obviously, so I had a double espresso and a Coke Light. Ovi and Andreea had been rollerskating earlier, so they got there ready-tired and thirsty. I did not notice how long I had waited for the waiter to ask me what I wanted, but my two friends really did when it was their turn. Especially since Ovi had a bottle of water in his backpack. Did I mention they were really thirsty?

Naturally, one doesn’t drink stuff that’s not from the bar while at said bar, but this was special. They must have waited for some fifteen minutes, and the waiter was not giving any signs that he’d be coming soon. At that point, Ovi took the bottle out of his backpack and had a long drink. That drink was so long, that the waiter got around to coming to our table before Ovi could finish.
Other than having to wait to be waited on, Porto Arte is pretty cool, and they played four Tool tracks while I was there. Quadruple thumbsup!

However, while we stood there, waiting, Ovi jokingly said that he’d take out an hourglass and if the waiter wouldn’t be there by the time the sand was up, he’d take out his bottle of water. That was some way to have a certifiable excuse.

I say this should be made into a rule. Written or not, this would really help the customer, in more ways than one.

Let’s say, every table gets an hourglass and a menu. You get 2 minutes to decide what you want and another ten until a waiter must arrive and take your order. These twelve minutes should be enough for any bar or restaurant. If, by the time the hourglass runs out, no waiter shows up, you get a discount.

Now the way the discount is calculated is based on the time you wait after the ten minutes that came after the two you took to make up your mind about what you’re going to have. If you wait an extra minute, that’s 10% of the ten minutes, so you get a 10% discount on your first order — so make it count.

The fun part about this is that if you have to wait long enough (ten minutes for those that really suck at math), you get a drink on the house. The bad part is that it only applies to the first order, but I think you can live with that.

This way, people like you and me get drinks for free, or the patrons take steps to prevent this kind of money loss and enforce strict policies for their staff.

In the end, what we get is either free, or at least cheaper, drinks or instant service. I call that a good win-win.

And, before I forget, if you’re going to order a shot of Jägermeister at Porto Arte, like Andreea did, brace yourself, because you’re getting two shots. The bad part is you have to pay for both.

Posted on the 13th of April, 2009 | 6 Mouth-watering Comments