<%@LANGUAGE="JAVASCRIPT" CODEPAGE="1252"%> Whisky Pants
     
     
     

Look, I'm not doing this for you, but for my own dark and twisted reasons. Oh, and because everyone else is doing it.

 
 

December 09, 2004

all she needs is 28 oz of vanilla pudding

Wednesday nights might not be the best hunting nights in DC. At least, it wasn't from where The Bunny and I were sitting.

Bunny is a master of body language and an accomplished wingman. In addition to forming a cooking school or opening a restaurant, I think he could give the NYC wingwoman organization a serious run for their money. I thought the wingwoman thing would be all about charm and he set me straight. The key to being a good wingman/woman is being a Jedi Knight. Much to learn, I have.

Lacking any decent test subjects, Bunny and I delved directly into drinking (Belhaven for him, and Glenmorangie for me - yum) and listening to excessively awful jukebox tunes; the bartenders were having a contest of sorts. I think Bunny had a little o when they played that song about how the lapdance is always better when the stripper is crying. I was peeved at the paltry Motley Crue selection.

So, we got our chat on, I discovered the joy of Glenmorangie, and I talked the Bunny into letting me be The Muse of the Day. Good times.

What is the title about, you ask? Well, if you're coming with me to the Bunny's New Years party, and decide you like him - that's probably all you're gonna need (to wear) to make his night. That and a top-shelf vocabulary.

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