Last night, I picked up "Choir Boy" from his Muay Thai lesson. No Bar happened to be down the street. That reminds me, I've busted a #3 to the bartender, Paula, there. Anyway, I trained "Choir Boy" in FMA at a nearby park. Agenda: Sumbrada (Fighter Flow Drill), vertical gunting (scissors), and hubad lubad (to tie and untie). He was more delirious than usual, which he attributed to heat exhaustion. And then I became delirious when my phone died despite being fully charged.
"CHOIR BOY": Is your database stored on your phone?
RYAN: Wait, do you even know what a database is?
'CHOIR BOY": It's your black book, right?
Wow, innocence. No wonder he got nicknamed "Choir Boy."
Thankfully, plugging my phone into a charger defibrillated it. The rest of the "superhero meeting," as it must now be called - "Super A" and "G" - arrived, the latter almost carrying the former as she injured her leg. After a futile attempt to have the winner of a game of "Rock, Paper, Scissors" decide where to eat - We all somehow picked "scissors!" - we inexplicably headed to California Pizza Kitchen. Mental note: The backseat of "G"'s car is roomy enough to shoot a porn.
"G" and I shared a pizza called "The Works" while "Choir Boy" and "Super A" were blue-balled when the advertised gluten-free dishes were unavailable. The chef deserved a Karate Chop. But the wine was good.
In total: I had a corona, two glasses of wine, honey whiskey & Cherry Coke, and blueberry & something. We watched Underworld: Rise of the Lycans and I got home at 1:30AM.
I had a dream again that I was grappling and won with another arm-triangle submission, which, again, I've never attempted in real life. I woke up after a second opponent took my back, I spun around and used my leg to create distance, creating the illusion of an illegal kick, and got disqualified. End of dream.
Guitar practice was rescheduled last second to an hour earlier. It was a bitch playing Flamenco guitar after cutting my nails earlier this week.
I carried my guitar with me as a chick magnet at the mall afterward. I was able to sneak past my stalker at Hot Topic. I think. Faith at Brookstone was rocking eye glasses today, back to looking like Erica Durance as Lois Lane on Smallville. She was massaging her coworker with the
I read more of American Gods at Barnes & Noble before going home to fire up the porn. There was this one video of a couple that was set to a bunch of 80's hair metal, which I recognized as drunkenly dancing to at Garry's Birthday party in West Hollywood last month. (See entry 7/16/11.) I then busted a #3 to that chick Madison from last Tuesday. (See entry 8/23/11.)
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