As the Dude would of seen fit, my heterosexual life partner Clark and I, started our night off Abiding with White Russians and Steve Miller. Much to my wallets chagrins, there were designated beer gardens where one could get nice and hammered and enjoy the wonderment at a minimal fee of $850 per drink. Luckily, there was a place to take out second mortgages at 5.4% FRM nearby. As Clark is not 21 I found myself sneaking him drinks out the back. It was a slippery slope, seeing as there were more cops there than at a black-pride/free doughnuts rally. It was a slope as slippery as John Travolta’s son’s bathtub floor.
Moving on, the lengthy lines made for perfect opportunities for me to amass material for my dastardly columns and to mac on the overwhelming amount of scene girls present. All in all it was a good time, for at least I know my fart jokes made at least four people laugh in the line for the dueling dragons.
Here is a Hooverville of a Supermarket. Part Supermarket, part souvenir store/ part Indian trading post
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