Just for fun. Jade's Dance Party.

ThatOwlWoman said:
Many moons ago, in a galaxy far far away, I briefly dated an older guy. I was 19; he was 27. One night he took me to a country bar he knew where questions weren't asked. I didn't much like the taste of alcohol; my only experience with it had been communion wine. He got me this drink. Oooo, it was good. So he got me another. Ooooh, it was even better. So he got me a third. I got up to visit the ladies room and if some passing guy hadn't caught me, I would have face-planted right on the dirty dirty floor. Needless to say, the next day I was sleeping on the bathroom floor in between bouts. lol

https://mixthatdrink.com/singapore-sling/
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LOL Sounds like my wife and I on our first date. She wasn't a drinker and we were at this night club in Baguio. The server handed us drink menu and I asked my sweety what she wanted to drink. She gave the classic "I don't know" answer. So I asked her if she trusted me. She screwed up and said "yes" so I ordered her a Long Island Iced Tea. She made it through two of them and was working on her third when she began to slide out of her chair. So I took her home. She was out cold long before we got there. LOL
 
Mott the Hoople said:
LOL Sounds like my wife and I on our first date. She wasn't a drinker and we were at this night club in Baguio. The server handed us drink menu and I asked my sweety what she wanted to drink. She gave the classic "I don't know" answer. So I asked her if she trusted me. She screwed up and said "yes" so I ordered her a Long Island Iced Tea. She made it through two of them and was working on her third when she began to slide out of her chair. So I took her home. She was out cold long before we got there. LOL
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And yet she married you anyways. Now that's true love!
 
ThatOwlWoman said:
Many moons ago, in a galaxy far far away, I briefly dated an older guy. I was 19; he was 27. One night he took me to a country bar he knew where questions weren't asked. I didn't much like the taste of alcohol; my only experience with it had been communion wine. He got me this drink. Oooo, it was good. So he got me another. Ooooh, it was even better. So he got me a third. I got up to visit the ladies room and if some passing guy hadn't caught me, I would have face-planted right on the dirty dirty floor.

Needless to say, the next day I was sleeping on the bathroom floor in between bouts. lol

https://mixthatdrink.com/singapore-sling/
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That is what my college buddies and I called "praying to the porcelain God".



Nice story!
 
Cypress said:
That is what my college buddies and I called "praying to the porcelain God".



Nice story!
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I grew up in the sticks and I have some great country bar stories.

My favorite is I was at the Third Time Around in greater downtown New Weston Ohio which a stone throw from Eldora Speedway in Rossburg.

There was a bunch of farm boys and fellas from a motorcycle club from Dayton. Never a good mix. Sure enough a fight started and spilled out into the parking lot. At this time I was pretty much monkey drunk and I wondered out into the parking lot to observe the brawl. Not having the best judgement at the time and being loaded with liquid courage I started going around the parking lot and picking up empty beer bottles and busting them over the head of whoever happened to be on top of a particular tussle. I got away with it three times but the fourth one I got caught. Last thing I remember was waking at my cousins house with a busted rib. Apparently I dropped to the ground and curled up in a fetal position while a group of bikers and farm boys kicked the shit out of me. My cousin Charlie probably saved my life that night.
 
Mott the Hoople said:
I grew up in the sticks and I have some great country bar stories.

My favorite is I was at the Third Time Around in greater downtown New Weston Ohio which a stone throw from Eldora Speedway in Rossburg.

There was a bunch of farm boys and fellas from a motorcycle club from Dayton. Never a good mix. Sure enough a fight started and spilled out into the parking lot. At this time I was pretty much monkey drunk and I wondered out into the parking lot to observe the brawl. Not having the best judgement at the time and being loaded with liquid courage I started going around the parking lot and picking up empty beer bottles and busting them over the head of whoever happened to be on top of a particular tussle. I got away with it three times but the fourth one I got caught. Last thing I remember was waking at my cousins house with a busted rib. Apparently I dropped to the ground and curled up in a fetal position while a group of bikers and farm boys kicked the shit out of me. My cousin Charlie probably saved my life that night.
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Holy smoke! This is exactly the situation gun-humpers have been telling me demonstrates a need to be packing an AR-15. Switchblades and broken beer bottles just don't cut it, man!

I don't have any good bar fight stories, but I had a few pretty comical experiences with my lame amateur bar band. One brisk October evening, we showed up to play open mike night at a bar that was mainly known for folk music and acoustic tunes....which should have told us our brand of Scorpions and AC/DC tunes cranked to eleven was a bad idea! From what I was told, we played so loud as to destroy their puny PA system, the cops were called out on us, and we were asked to leave and never show up for open mike night ever again. Good times, I tell ya, good times!
 
Mott the Hoople said:
I grew up in the sticks and I have some great country bar stories.

My favorite is I was at the Third Time Around in greater downtown New Weston Ohio which a stone throw from Eldora Speedway in Rossburg.

There was a bunch of farm boys and fellas from a motorcycle club from Dayton. Never a good mix. Sure enough a fight started and spilled out into the parking lot. At this time I was pretty much monkey drunk and I wondered out into the parking lot to observe the brawl. Not having the best judgement at the time and being loaded with liquid courage I started going around the parking lot and picking up empty beer bottles and busting them over the head of whoever happened to be on top of a particular tussle. I got away with it three times but the fourth one I got caught. Last thing I remember was waking at my cousins house with a busted rib. Apparently I dropped to the ground and curled up in a fetal position while a group of bikers and farm boys kicked the shit out of me. My cousin Charlie probably saved my life that night.
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Yeah, but it was fun while it lasted, right? lol
 
ThatOwlWoman said:
Yeah, but it was fun while it lasted, right? lol
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LOL Yea...it was. I was completely fair and unbiased. I didn’t care who was on top, biker fag or big farm boy, I busted a bottle over their head. The funny thing was the fourth guy I hit was a personal friend. A farm boy we called “Plow” cause one time he pulled a broken plow out of a field by himself. Big strong farm boy and generally a gentle giant. I had to of been monkey drunk to bust a bottle over Plows head. Didn’t phase the big fucker. Just made him mad. To his credit he accepted my apology and forgave me. My cousin Charlie stopped them from stomping me to death. When I asked him why he didn’t stop them sooner he said he was to busy laughing.
 

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