Taking advantage of whiskey dick

I went to the gym to do compound exercises and some isolation exercises.

Tonight's appointment: The Griffin for one last hurrah with Matt before he leaves for Japan. I hadn't been there since my grade school reunion. I love their dress code banning shirts stereotypical of douchebags. So I wore something on the opposite end of the spectrum - my Taylor Swift shirt. Richard was at the Griffin all by his lonesome for an hour because I had to redeem my 50% discount of frozen yogurt at Pinkberry. I had watermelon flavor topped with mochi, kiwi and mango. Matt also taught me a new word: Fro-yo - an annoying abbreviation.

Matt and I tried some Rogue beer. I saw one of the chicks who works at the front desk of the LSAT prep center where I studied last year. I forget her name, but it wasn't the jackoffable Muslim one nor the fat one. It was the annoying one and I tried to avoid eye contact.

RYAN: [Coming back to the table empty-handed] They don't have any pitchers!
MATT: That's your answer to everything!
FRONT DESK CHICK: [Actually followed me] Hey, did you study at Kaplan last year?
RYAN: Yeah, I did.
FRONT DESK CHICK: You don't remember me! Did you pass your test?
RYAN: I did!
FRONT DESK CHICK: Great! [High-fives me.]
RYAN: (At Richard and Matt) I actually did remember her. I just didn't wanna talk to her. [They laugh.]

We ended up going to Whiskey Bend in Burbank because the beer sucked, or as Matt likes to say ...

MATT: No, the beer was good. It's just Ryan's answer to everything in life is, "They don't have any pitchers!"

Gumbi and Amy were there. I haven't seen Amy since last year. (See entry 1/1/10.)

I started with a pitcher of Amber Bock and then Hefeweizen, a.k.a. Heather's favorite beer. I then texted Heather:

Drunk off Hefeweizen and therefore thinking of you. That reminds me, I'd ike to request my usual Sam Adams for your Birthday party (seasonal flavors preferred). Love you [Heart.]

She texted back:

Haha no problem! [Heart.]

There are some loose chicks at Whiskey Bend. I noticed they were all blonde. One was such that Matt and I both agreed that despite beer-goggles (or whiskey goggles, as Matt put it) we wouldn't hit it, another had fake leopard skin pants, and another was lip syncing to whatever played. I got Matt a condom from the condom dispensary in the restroom to take to Japan with him. Richard, Matt and I ate at Coral's. There was another drunken group there with a loose chick, this time a brunette, who was bragging loudly, "I woke up at 8[PM]!"

RICHARD: That's nothing to brag about.

At home, I couldn't pass up exploiting my whiskey dick, so I busted a #3 to one of the blonds.