S-A-TUR-DAY!

So it's Saturday night and I've been home for about a half an hour now.  It's been a long, long day. 

You may find yourself asking, "Aaron, how long was it?"

"Long long," I would reply. 

I went to work.  That was marginally interesting.  I did a lot more walking than usual.  I still managed to sit in the office for over an hour without "officially" being on a break but nobody really said anything.

We had a "Frias Dance" at the Convention Center today.  That's basically just a SUPER-expensive ($50/ticket) banda concert. 

"What's banda," you ask puzzledly.

"It's music that blows donkey balls," I answer without delay.

Every now and again you'll here it in your neighborhood, usually blaring out of a large Chevy pick-up.  It's just this repetitive nonsense played my Mexican dudes in frilly costumes, with accordions!  No, seriously, it sucks so hard. 

It's not the fact that it's in Spanish either.  As anyone who knows me knows, I am down with the Mexican people and culture.  I have an honorary badge to prove it.  It's just the droning tempo, lack of melody, and the fact that you can't tell any of the songs apart and you don't even notice when the live performance has stopped and the DJ has taken over (to cover the setup time).  That's really sad.  It really misrepresents the Mexican culture.  It's just an excuse to get drunk in public at 7 bucks a pop. 

Banda, avoid it like the girl in headgear from elementary school.

The only slight bright spot to these "Frias Dances" is that many latinas show up wearing next-to-nothing.  Evenso, the ratio of ugly girls to hot girls is usually 80:20.  Tonight it was more like 95:pathetic.  It was bad.  Not that I'd be seriously interested in a girl that listened to that "music."  A guy's gotta have standards.

After work, I met Butch and Danny and we went to Hooters.  We had the same waitress as last time.  Bummer.  Only this time, she didn't "recognize" me.  So, that proves that last time I was there, she was crazy mistaken.  It's in an old blog, look it up, for the kids.

After that, we roamed downtown looking for merriment.  We ran into some girl (and I probably don't need to say this) drunk-off-her-ass as she pole-danced on a lamp post.  After some laughing and hot chocolate at Fumari, I headed for home.  Twas magical, kids. 

Mini-Plot Points Not Covered in Great Detail: Danny got carded and was rejected (at age 27) for guessing his own height incorrectly!  In all fairness, Danny was correct but his license wasn't.

Cute girl at Fumari, I still owe you a wink and the gun. 

Banda's even more annoying in the parking lot. 

And finally, Kill Whitey.  Happy Easter, Christians!