forgive me father - a.k.a. watchin' out for lightning bolts!
This weekend was weird.
After staying in all week, I was really hoping to get out and about on Friday night. But I was dragging all day at work. I was so tired and my eyes were just burning. I went home after work, caught a quick nap, took a hot shower, ate some dinner, got dressed, and then sat down on my couch around 8:30 and realized I wasn't going anywhere. I was exhausted.
I borrowed A Mighty Wind from a friend a few weeks ago and still hadn't watched it, so I popped it in. It was cute. It didn't even come close to touching Best in Show, but it was O.K. I love that guy who plays the husband of the woman who used to be in porn (he plays one of the gay guys in Best in Show). He's so damn cute.
Anyway, I went to bed about 11:30. That was the first Friday night I've stayed home in almost a year. I really think I made the smart decision, but still had a sense that I had the stink of loser all over me all day on Saturday. On the plus side, I woke up at 7:30 on Saturday morning totally sober and refreshed and ready to greet the day. Now THAT'S a strange feeling.
Saturday night my friends who just got married this summer had a little house-warming at their new home over off of Federal & 23rd. After almost a week of house arrest I was very excited to get out and hang with two of the most entertaining friends that I have (and rarely get to see). But I should have kept in mind that I hadn't had but a drink or two in almost a week. Because I started drinking wine like a madman, and it went straight to my head. There were about 10-15 of us there and I don't even know how many bottles we went through. A LOT. By 1:00 a.m. I was totally toasted. Accidentally. Then I thought I was the biggest DJ stud ever, going through their CDs, spinning all my favorite tunes. I got heavy on the disco.
The stragglers who were still left in the wee hours decided to play Texas Hold 'Em – some sort of form of poker. I have absolutely no idea how to play poker. It doesn't interest me in the slightest. But I was drunk and didn't want to be left out so I joined in. I had absolutely no idea what I was doing, but somehow by the grace of a god who helps drunken fools, I won the first game! $$$! Don't EVEN try to fuck with me when I put on my poker face sucker-chumps!
I felt like ASS on Sunday morning. Oh god. I had to be up at 10:00 to run errands with my buddy and it was one of the rare times I actually had a full-on hangover. Ugh – I felt terrible. By 1:00 I was back home on my couch for a three-hour nap. When I woke up I had no motivation to do anything, but figured I might as well walk across the street to REI to grab some Starbucks. Thought it would help clear my head. As I was sipping my soy latte and walking around checking out REI's merchandise my cell rang. It was E, a guy who lived in my old apartment building. He's pretty cool – a nice, normal guy who I drunkenly hooked up with a time or two. But we never call each other or make plans to hang out, so I was a bit confused as to why he was calling me. After a bit of chit-chat, he told me he was at the new bar in Larimer Square – Corridor 44 – with a friend and he asked me to stop by for a drink. Now, the last thing I needed was a drink, but I figured I could either walk a few blocks up the road and be social for a while, or crawl back onto my couch and be a complete slug for the rest of the night. So I opted for the former.
I met E and his friend around 5:00. They had just come from a wedding and looked very nice all dressed up in their suits. I looked like shit. E's friend was really nice – he was probably in his mid-40s, decent-looking - not really my cup of tea physically - but very smart and funny and sweet and a really good listener. We talked and drank champagne for about an hour and a half and I started to feel a lot better.
The bar was deserted except for us and one other table. I had to go to the bathroom and chose the stall over the urinal simply because I needed some toilet paper to blow my nose. A couple seconds later I heard the bathroom door open and close and a voice outside the stall door said "Matt?" I said "yeah?" and when the door was pushed open I saw it was E's friend. And he had mischief in his eyes. I don't know what happened in my head at that moment – I honestly wasn't very attracted to him - but I was tired and coming off a cold, and hungover, and silly from too much champagne…so I let him come in to the stall.
About 10-15 minutes later we got back to the table and E. acted like we'd only been gone for two minutes, so I just went with it. Then our conversation turned to religion. I talked about how I was raised catholic, went to catholic school, was an altar boy – the whole works. And all of a sudden the friend drops a bomb – he was a priest for seven years! He ended up giving it up because he didn't agree with the direction the church was headed, but for SEVEN YEARS he was a MAN OF GOD. Oh my god. It really stunned me - I didn't know what to say.
At that point I decided it would probably be best if I headed for home. I said my goodbyes and right as I was walking out the door, the ex-priest ran up behind me and asked if I wanted to go back to E's house for some three-way action. I was like, "Oh jesus – this is just too much." I politely declined and continued on my way. Then about five minutes later my cell rang – it was the ex-priest. He wanted to know if I had any pot to sell him. Unbelievable.
I realized on my walk home that E must have known what was going on all along – the ex-priest had probably asked him to call one of his hook-ups from the past. So I guess that means that E either thinks I'm really, really good in bed or really, really cheap. I prefer to think I'm a little of both.
I've always heard it said that catholic girls are the nastiest, and now I think the boys may be too. I haven't been a practicing catholic in well over ten years, but I still can't help but feel a little guilty and dirty and sinful about letting an ex-priest go down on me in a bar bathroom. I mean, that's just WRONG.
Jesus h. christ – my grandma must be spinning in her grave….
I don't know. The whole thing is very Thorn Birds.
OK - anyway, on a completely different track, Arrested Development is back tonight! AND it's a full hour! Yeah!
After staying in all week, I was really hoping to get out and about on Friday night. But I was dragging all day at work. I was so tired and my eyes were just burning. I went home after work, caught a quick nap, took a hot shower, ate some dinner, got dressed, and then sat down on my couch around 8:30 and realized I wasn't going anywhere. I was exhausted.
I borrowed A Mighty Wind from a friend a few weeks ago and still hadn't watched it, so I popped it in. It was cute. It didn't even come close to touching Best in Show, but it was O.K. I love that guy who plays the husband of the woman who used to be in porn (he plays one of the gay guys in Best in Show). He's so damn cute.
Anyway, I went to bed about 11:30. That was the first Friday night I've stayed home in almost a year. I really think I made the smart decision, but still had a sense that I had the stink of loser all over me all day on Saturday. On the plus side, I woke up at 7:30 on Saturday morning totally sober and refreshed and ready to greet the day. Now THAT'S a strange feeling.
Saturday night my friends who just got married this summer had a little house-warming at their new home over off of Federal & 23rd. After almost a week of house arrest I was very excited to get out and hang with two of the most entertaining friends that I have (and rarely get to see). But I should have kept in mind that I hadn't had but a drink or two in almost a week. Because I started drinking wine like a madman, and it went straight to my head. There were about 10-15 of us there and I don't even know how many bottles we went through. A LOT. By 1:00 a.m. I was totally toasted. Accidentally. Then I thought I was the biggest DJ stud ever, going through their CDs, spinning all my favorite tunes. I got heavy on the disco.
The stragglers who were still left in the wee hours decided to play Texas Hold 'Em – some sort of form of poker. I have absolutely no idea how to play poker. It doesn't interest me in the slightest. But I was drunk and didn't want to be left out so I joined in. I had absolutely no idea what I was doing, but somehow by the grace of a god who helps drunken fools, I won the first game! $$$! Don't EVEN try to fuck with me when I put on my poker face sucker-chumps!
I felt like ASS on Sunday morning. Oh god. I had to be up at 10:00 to run errands with my buddy and it was one of the rare times I actually had a full-on hangover. Ugh – I felt terrible. By 1:00 I was back home on my couch for a three-hour nap. When I woke up I had no motivation to do anything, but figured I might as well walk across the street to REI to grab some Starbucks. Thought it would help clear my head. As I was sipping my soy latte and walking around checking out REI's merchandise my cell rang. It was E, a guy who lived in my old apartment building. He's pretty cool – a nice, normal guy who I drunkenly hooked up with a time or two. But we never call each other or make plans to hang out, so I was a bit confused as to why he was calling me. After a bit of chit-chat, he told me he was at the new bar in Larimer Square – Corridor 44 – with a friend and he asked me to stop by for a drink. Now, the last thing I needed was a drink, but I figured I could either walk a few blocks up the road and be social for a while, or crawl back onto my couch and be a complete slug for the rest of the night. So I opted for the former.
I met E and his friend around 5:00. They had just come from a wedding and looked very nice all dressed up in their suits. I looked like shit. E's friend was really nice – he was probably in his mid-40s, decent-looking - not really my cup of tea physically - but very smart and funny and sweet and a really good listener. We talked and drank champagne for about an hour and a half and I started to feel a lot better.
The bar was deserted except for us and one other table. I had to go to the bathroom and chose the stall over the urinal simply because I needed some toilet paper to blow my nose. A couple seconds later I heard the bathroom door open and close and a voice outside the stall door said "Matt?" I said "yeah?" and when the door was pushed open I saw it was E's friend. And he had mischief in his eyes. I don't know what happened in my head at that moment – I honestly wasn't very attracted to him - but I was tired and coming off a cold, and hungover, and silly from too much champagne…so I let him come in to the stall.
About 10-15 minutes later we got back to the table and E. acted like we'd only been gone for two minutes, so I just went with it. Then our conversation turned to religion. I talked about how I was raised catholic, went to catholic school, was an altar boy – the whole works. And all of a sudden the friend drops a bomb – he was a priest for seven years! He ended up giving it up because he didn't agree with the direction the church was headed, but for SEVEN YEARS he was a MAN OF GOD. Oh my god. It really stunned me - I didn't know what to say.
At that point I decided it would probably be best if I headed for home. I said my goodbyes and right as I was walking out the door, the ex-priest ran up behind me and asked if I wanted to go back to E's house for some three-way action. I was like, "Oh jesus – this is just too much." I politely declined and continued on my way. Then about five minutes later my cell rang – it was the ex-priest. He wanted to know if I had any pot to sell him. Unbelievable.
I realized on my walk home that E must have known what was going on all along – the ex-priest had probably asked him to call one of his hook-ups from the past. So I guess that means that E either thinks I'm really, really good in bed or really, really cheap. I prefer to think I'm a little of both.
I've always heard it said that catholic girls are the nastiest, and now I think the boys may be too. I haven't been a practicing catholic in well over ten years, but I still can't help but feel a little guilty and dirty and sinful about letting an ex-priest go down on me in a bar bathroom. I mean, that's just WRONG.
Jesus h. christ – my grandma must be spinning in her grave….
I don't know. The whole thing is very Thorn Birds.
OK - anyway, on a completely different track, Arrested Development is back tonight! AND it's a full hour! Yeah!
posted by denverco at 3:50 PM
2 Comments:
whoa I really did NOT see that plot twist coming! OMG. A little bit of both...too funny. :)
Wow, that is some crazy shit. An ex-preist?! I would go back to church in a heart beat if Father O'Donnell was into three was and pot. Not that I would partake in either with him, but still that would be awesome!
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