Monday, May 07, 2007

Monocle Man on Roosters and Women and the Dangers of Playing With Screwdrivers

WARNING: First off, anyone wearing a monocle today should be viewed with suspicion. This gentleman, who wishes to remain anonymous as is a blogger's wont, is not the kind of guy you'd invite to a party. If his 1,000 yard stare doesn't quickly put your shindig into an irreversible slide toward downersville, his jaded, dyspeptic personality soon will. So, dear reader, read his words with caution and a mojito, MVB's drink of choice, in hand.
  • This weekend I was shopping at Publix. I bought a tin rooster. It was the last one they had. It looked Haitian in origin but upon closer inspection it was Chinese. While I'm waiting in the meat aisle to get a butcher to wrap up some beef bones so I can later boil and suck down the marrow, a woman started up a conversation with me regarding my rooster which was standing upright, looking over the top of the shopping cart. Later, we ended up sleeping together. When I woke up the next morning, my rooster was gone (and so was the woman).

  • Which got me to thinking. I had heard rumors about the power a rooster has over women in Hialeah and certain parts of Medley, that a man with a rooster tucked firmly under his arm was like a babe magnet. I know dogs and especially puppies pretty much do the trick anywhere else on the planet when it comes to meeting women, but I suspect from what happened to me over the weekend, a rooster-- even a tin one-- should be the first choice of accouterments for guys on the prowl in south Florida. UpDate (5/21): The Miami Herald reports today that a very popular local rooster is missing from a Miami-Dade dockside restaurant. We suspect "Little Bob," a "happy-go-lucky rooster" is helping some guy get laid.
      • The next night I discovered the dangers of playing with screwdrivers. Not the ones you carry in a tool box and never use. I'm talking about the kind you drink. After the second one, I thought I'd get creative and add some sliced bananas to the top. I learned very quickly that drinking and slicing don't mix. The blood kinda made it look like a Tequila Sunrise. I call my new drink Screwed and recommend you do the slicing before you start the drinking.

      3 comments:

      Manola Blablablanik said...

      This is why I only drink martinis. No fruit, no danger.

      Verticus S. Erectus said...

      Unless, Ms. Blablablanik, you're doing the drinking with me.

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