I'm too old for this shit.

Bullwinkle's, in a nutshell:


My MS Paint skills are not up to snuff, but you get the idea...

I went there because a younger friend of mine wanted to start a Thursday night tradition, which is all well and good, except when the bar in question is filled with the smell of Drakkar Noir, Garnier Fructis, popcorn, stale beer, and about 200 21-year olds with the collective IQ of a bag of grass clippings and all the conscientiousness of a herd of drunk whales (thanks, TC Boyle). It is a fright. Do not go. My prejudices were confirmed. My only highlight was taunting our sole female companion about her new boyfriend, someone I know well and someone who has a predilection for becoming the center of drama. Good times, dear reader, good times indeed.

~~~

Tonight I plan on hitting up a zombie-themed 80' dance night at Ground Zero. Yes, you read that correctly. Anyone want to take bets on how many fat people decide that throwing Bisquick and fake blood on their face and then walking around in beyond skin-tight pants is a good idea? I'll let you know the final numbers.

More to come on Sunday folks...