Utopia and the Money Pit
Atlantic City wasn't quite as profitable as APK and I hoped, actually, it pretty much robbed us both. I lost $100 on the Wheel of Fortune slot machines. Highly addictive slot machine. I was up a good $250 at one point, but my greed overtook the voice in my head that cried "Ferragamo." Oh well, I got a free dinner from 2 Cherry Hill police officers and their father. APK was busy playing poker. I was hungry. There were no seats at the bar. The host offered me a table for 1. Sniffle. I was about to decline the table and grab a bag of potato chips at the vending machine instead when one of the police officers offered me a seat with them. They then paid for dinner. Who says shivalry is dead. Quite a good story, huh?
APK's story is much more complicated. I don't know how to tell the entire thing. Something about the flops, the river, and the blind. Hmmm. "Basically," he explained, "say you were asked to pick 5 out of 6 numbers on a dice. Someone then says to you that they'll give you $300 if one of those numbers hit BUT you'll have to give them $300 if the one number you didn't pick hits, would you take the bet?" So somehow he lost money on a 91% chance of winning. As Woody Allen's most recent movie suggests, would you rather be good or lucky? If I were APK, I'd just be psyched to know that my hand had a 91% chance of winning. I'm so bad at math.
We stayed in Friday night. Without allotting too much detail, I'd like to mention the fun received from Jessica Simpson's Dessert line. May I suggest the Deliciously Kissable Hot Topping. APK will kill me if I go into any more detail. Let's just say, I'm not sure Nick should have bailed on the marriage quite yet. All that free Topping.
Saturday night, SC, TS, and SG and I went for a ladies-on-the-town style dinner at Utopia on U and 14th. Other than somewhat slow service, the food was divine, although by 3am, my alcohol consumption had taken over any long-lasting satisfaction. I'd not been to Local 16 since the summer, so I was pleasantly surprised to see it not crowded. I suppose the closing of the patio had something to do with the extra space. I was the attempted pick-up by a very drunk boy. Men, here's what NOT to do when trying to pick-up a girl:
1. Don't make out with someone else in front of them. If you are caught in such an attempt, don't lie and say she's your sister. This makes you seem disgusting rather than just sleazy.
2. Don't text anyone named Hamilton while hitting on said girl, and especially don't show said girl the text to Hamilton which read that she's hot. Certain names, like Hamilton, signify that either you are a coked-up rich kid, or that perhaps you would enjoy using Dessert on Hamilton more than said girl.
3. Don't ask a girl to dance to "Gold Digger." First off, bootie dancing is more like foreplay than a gentleman's way of picking a girl up. Secondly, if a girl is okay with being asked to have you grind up next to her, wait for a less degrading choice of lyrics.
4. Once said girl has politely declined to dance with you, don't grab her coat and throw it on the DJ's booth in an attempt to justify that she's definitely interested but has no where to put her coat. When the DJ then throws the coat onto the ground, you now owe the girl both a drink and dry cleaning. If she wants to dance with you, she will find a place for her coat. It's not the coat, it's you. K?
Last night, I got a chance to learn about Tori Spelling. I know you're jealous. Did you know you can actually e-mail Tori directly on her website fanmail section? I dare anyone to ask her if she's still mad at Gina about giving her father a heart attack and sleeping with David.
APK's story is much more complicated. I don't know how to tell the entire thing. Something about the flops, the river, and the blind. Hmmm. "Basically," he explained, "say you were asked to pick 5 out of 6 numbers on a dice. Someone then says to you that they'll give you $300 if one of those numbers hit BUT you'll have to give them $300 if the one number you didn't pick hits, would you take the bet?" So somehow he lost money on a 91% chance of winning. As Woody Allen's most recent movie suggests, would you rather be good or lucky? If I were APK, I'd just be psyched to know that my hand had a 91% chance of winning. I'm so bad at math.
We stayed in Friday night. Without allotting too much detail, I'd like to mention the fun received from Jessica Simpson's Dessert line. May I suggest the Deliciously Kissable Hot Topping. APK will kill me if I go into any more detail. Let's just say, I'm not sure Nick should have bailed on the marriage quite yet. All that free Topping.
Saturday night, SC, TS, and SG and I went for a ladies-on-the-town style dinner at Utopia on U and 14th. Other than somewhat slow service, the food was divine, although by 3am, my alcohol consumption had taken over any long-lasting satisfaction. I'd not been to Local 16 since the summer, so I was pleasantly surprised to see it not crowded. I suppose the closing of the patio had something to do with the extra space. I was the attempted pick-up by a very drunk boy. Men, here's what NOT to do when trying to pick-up a girl:
1. Don't make out with someone else in front of them. If you are caught in such an attempt, don't lie and say she's your sister. This makes you seem disgusting rather than just sleazy.
2. Don't text anyone named Hamilton while hitting on said girl, and especially don't show said girl the text to Hamilton which read that she's hot. Certain names, like Hamilton, signify that either you are a coked-up rich kid, or that perhaps you would enjoy using Dessert on Hamilton more than said girl.
3. Don't ask a girl to dance to "Gold Digger." First off, bootie dancing is more like foreplay than a gentleman's way of picking a girl up. Secondly, if a girl is okay with being asked to have you grind up next to her, wait for a less degrading choice of lyrics.
4. Once said girl has politely declined to dance with you, don't grab her coat and throw it on the DJ's booth in an attempt to justify that she's definitely interested but has no where to put her coat. When the DJ then throws the coat onto the ground, you now owe the girl both a drink and dry cleaning. If she wants to dance with you, she will find a place for her coat. It's not the coat, it's you. K?
Last night, I got a chance to learn about Tori Spelling. I know you're jealous. Did you know you can actually e-mail Tori directly on her website fanmail section? I dare anyone to ask her if she's still mad at Gina about giving her father a heart attack and sleeping with David.
posted by Sam.I.Am @ Monday, March 20, 2006
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home