Now I am not one to hang out late into the night. I rather get home before the bewitching hour to catch Christopher meloni standing up for justice.
But being tonight having no Mr meloni on air, I spent a bit of extra time hanging out with lovely G and her hubby at a club cheekily named vogue. And no, it had no resemblance to the magazine.
But what it did have was sofa sets befitting a king, jewel encrusted and draped in velvet. I kid not.
There is something that i really wish i could do. It would be good if I could someday meet with the person who came up with names of drinks served at clubs. I had two shots, a cock sucking cowboy and a blow job. Either this person who came up with these names was extremely horny at the time or they hired someone from the sexual crimes prison to come up with these names. Which I'm sure would not make Chris meloni a happy man.
I mean..how did baileys and butterscotch become something a cowboy would suck? And a private part at that. It was so uncomfortable telling my cambodian waiter we wanted to order the blow job..cos he kept saying " yes, yes, blow job nice. Is very sweet". Sigh.
Thanks also to the buy 1 free1 happy hour special, the next door table of skimpily clad 18 year olds were hammering on almost 300 cosmos. Unable to walk much farther than their table, they girls decide to dance right thr while trying to lift their already short skirts..hoping to get a couple of free cowboys and blow jobs? Bro in law had a good point, why do they wear something so short when the probability of them falling is as high as their tall- as-giraffe shoes?
Well at least I got a lil free entertainment.
Though I'll still take Chris meloni any day...
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