The road leading from Friday to Saturday is paved with chicks

Yeah, that’s right. Yesterday at work I had a corporate lunch at Boccacino’s, downtown, next door to the office. They wanted to thank their favorite employees for being so damn good – and good-looking. So I stuffed my pretty face with the biggest fuckin’ club sandwich you’ve ever seen, and I felt bad for the rest of the day. Since I went to bed relatively late on Thursday night, I went for the usual disco nap as soon as I got home.

Then, it was time for Nostalgia, the « Back to School » party organised by the Drunken Midget crew at S.A.T. You can’t go wrong with such a thing – cheap 90’s eurodance, cheap booze and plaid skirts. And some very, very young chicks.

All my friends choked on this one, so I went to SAQ to get my usual Rev four pack and I headed for St-Laurent on my own. Mr. Bérêt had mentioned he was perhaps going to be there, so I had some hopes. Finally, I snatched some Rev inside, hidden in my socks, but I still drank two before going in, and the first guy I ran into was him !

He had snatched his whole 60 ounces vodka bottle inside, and we started buying Guru, and spicing it up a notch, checkin’ out cute girl asses and dancing on « What is Love ? ». Baby, don’t hurt me…

There was a tall girl and she was a cutie, and I started chatting with her while dancing. Things went good – I even gave her my car keys for her to take me home, because I was starting to be real slouched and I heard she lived near where I do.

The night went on until it was unfortunately over, and she gave my keys back because she was leaving with a retarded looking Dungeon & Dragons player sporting an Atari t-shirt and geeky glasses. I danced the last slow with Miss Glass. Gun’s & Roses’ « Don’t Cry ». I was pretty pissed about being ditched for this loser. But the loser, seemingly, was me.

We went to eat pizza, Mr. Bérêt & me, at my favorite 1$ parlor in the Village. We met a cute blond chick named Shelley, and left. Bérêt – who, surprisingly, was sporting a cool looking gangster hat – didn’t feel like going to bed so he offered to pay the Aria entrance fees for me. A quarter of a speed later, we were in the line-up.

We got frisked at the entrance, which isn’t really my definition of what a fun evening is. They have some fuckin’ metal detectors… Gangsters really need to grow the fuck up.

I’m not really into drum n’ bass but the guy playing was Ronnie Size, for fuck’s sake. So I danced and had some fun, and even ran into Miss Mexx. But the place ran out of chicks faster than you can say « nobody here has a sex drive because of the pill » and we decided to call it a night around 7 AM.

I drove in the rain soaked Montreal streets and went to bed around 11, and slept all day. Now you can call me Mr. Productive.