Thursday, September 10, 2009

Smittypalooza II recap: recovering apace

by Smitty

The sprained wrist makes blogging mildly painful.

The evening began fine. The blogger to reader ratio seemed about 50/50. Prominent attendees, in no particular order, included:
If you were there and you've got a blog that I need to add, please note it in the comments.
Conspicuous in their absence:
My shoulder is killing me.

After several hours of discussion about life, the universe, blogging, politics, etc, Stacy finally dragged in. I thought something missing from his attire, but then he seemed to meet the grooming standards for the venue, after all. There was much more chatting, and then people with real lives and jobs began to filter out. There was talk of heading out for a bite, but I demurred, stating that my owner would wish to see me at home. Everyone departed, leaving me and the bartender. Then things went Kafka.

The Book
An item was taken from the club. What? You know, I was told. They threw the book at me.

I may have sustained a concussion. The one eye is a bit dodgy. Where is it? demanded my tormentors. I had no idea what was going on.

Picking up the book, they threw it open to a binder-clipped page, and forced me to read aloud:
On my sacred honor as a club member, I will never take or allow a guest to remove any item of club property from the premises.
Having completed the ritual, they threw me out, to land ingloriously on the sidewalk.

Now, I Really Shouldn't Mention the Right Sleazy Moniker of the Royally Shameful Muthah who put me through all this: that's not how I roll.

All that over a necktie.

Paco reveals some other irregularities that escape my attention while I was...occupied.


  1. The TIE! Oh crap! I forgot to take off the tie before I left.

  2. *sigh*
    Next time I'll bring a spare. Everything goes with black, after all.

  3. In a pinch, you can always draw a Western string tie on a white shirt with a black magic marker.

  4. American Freedom
    Hair on Fire