Beefcake

Tonight Kathleen, Erin, Erin's german friend Kristin, and I went barhopping on Whyte Ave.

We started at Monkey Island, where we had extremely weak drinks. This in combination with the lack of other people caused us to lose interest in the bar. Our next stop was the One on Whyte. It too was empty, and certainly did not live up to my expectations.

Our third stop was a much better choice. The Underdog pub (the basement of the Black Dog) was mildly entertaining. Upstairs a live band was setting up, but there was no where to sit. The Underdog had a good couch and a social bartender (although he was new and couldn't make barely anything). After a few drinks they started playing a really old zombie movie (the bartender informed me that it was the "godfather" of all zombie movies).

Our final stop was at the Funky Budda. Erin kept calling me "Beefcake", which I am not sure what to think about. I think it was related to her comment that I must look intimidating to other people as we were walking around.

On the way home I covered Kathy's eyes on the whitemud, and (useing her window controls because she knows to lock mine out) I opened her window and stuck my hand out, refusing to move it even when she started to close the window.

Once I was home I was going down the stairs and didn't duck soon enough. I hit the ceiling with enough force to cause blood to get in my eye (a weird feeling, I assure you).