Sunday, March 16, 2008
Hey, DJ, won't you play that song. The one that keeps me dancing. All night long.

I went to a bar last night for the first time in ages. Actually, I went to two bars, but not a pub crawl. The first bar was filled to the gills with over-privileged children and Germans, I thought I had mistakenly crashed a college party (in Munich). The second bar was filled with community college students and old people. The second bar was more my style, thought it claimed it was an Irish bar and did not serve Harp Lager. Bud Light was the toasting ale of the joint. Icky pooh.

Everything was fine until the DJ started playing music. Bobby Brown, y'all. Whitney Houston. Boyz II Men. A terrible time warp had occurred, and the universe started spinning backwards. Some white chick busted out in a Kid 'n' Play move.

And while I was seething with the concept of 80's pop music being played to a generation of individuals too young to remember the actual horror of these songs, I realized something far, far worse: if the DJ had been playing current music, I would have been just as lost.

I'm getting old.

I went home drunk. That was the highlight of the evening. I think I also turned on some Flogging Mollies, just to prove a point. To whom, I can't say. Nonetheless, I have decided on one, very important choice. I am not going to bars anymore unless the venue includes somber chamber music and lots of port wine.

Here are the ingredients for a Dirty Girl Scout:

Mix the vodka, Kahlua and Bailey's and pour over ice. Pour the Creme de Menthe down the center of the glass.

This is the culmination of the evening: sipping a beverage that vaguely resembles green Pepto Bismo. I think it was entirely appropriate.
Written by FRITZ
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Name: Fritz

Location: Detroit Rock City!
Where the weak are killed and eaten

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