Yeah, this post is a little late. Or a lot late. I was actually going to skip the New Year's recap altogether but under threat of searing, fiery pain (or loss of followers), I have to throw something up so you all feel like you were there with me. (Except you, Lor. Trees totally count.)
After my road-trip plans got quashed I made a frantic call to Riot in Dallas. I found a last-minute flight that wouldn't leave my bank account hemorraging pennies and was on my way to the birthplace of mechanical bulls within 48 hours.
The first place I went to was a "restaurant" called the Tap-In. I liked this place immediately because from far away it looked like "Tap That," AND they had Texas-style karaoke where some dude jumped around like an angry gorilla on meth.
I was also treated to the usual Dallas sight-seeing, which was largely uneventful except for when I managed to bedazzle security at Cowboys Stadium with my beauty and charm and sneak onto the field (read: they were distracted by DD Munchkins which are not at all delicious and I definitely do not follow on Twitter). Whatever. I still got to stand on the 50-yard line, which was totally awesome and one of the highlights of my life.
Of course, the most memorable portion of my Dallas excursion may have been when Riot and I found the 24-hour Walmart. I got super excited about the toy section. I mean we. We got super excited.
BTW, this is a doll that I found in Walmart. Note where the "Try Me" hole is located:
That's just fucked up. Not cool, Walmart. Not cool.
To infiltrate 2011, we decided to make the 5-hour drive to Austin armed with 4,000 calorie snacks, two sets of tunes from both of our iPods and Riot's baby, a 14-year-old, 4-pound shivery little diva named Chloe.
Whoever coined the phrase "getting there is half the fun" is a fucking genius, because between stopping for souvenirs, eating at a local (and creepy) Sonic and going through two sets of camera batteries, I don't think I even wanted to get to the hotel. There are some really hilarious pictures of us, including one of me wearing a cowboy hat, that will never make it onto this blog but you can see it on my FB page in all its humiliating glory.
BTW, I forget what hotel we stayed at (I think it was a Radisson or Westin or some shit), but Riot will probably leave a comment reminding me what the name of the hotel was. I'm pretty sure I'm way off. Anyway, we were supposed to get a suite, but we walked in to some kind of Carrie Underwear sing-along shitstorm-crap room with a living area and a fridge. In what kind of Lost-tastic alternate universe is this a suite?
OK, maybe that's an exaggeration, but you get what I mean.
I also made Riot drive me to the local comic book store (of course) where I spent almost half an hour gazing at Superman action figures and Buffy magazines. I knew I should probably get the hell out of there when I got into a lengthy discussion with the guy behind the counter about the upcoming Game of Thrones TV series.
I also managed to narrowly escape being kidnapped by a total freak of nature, who you guys will definitely be hearing about in a later post. Believe me when I tell you that this guy brings new meaning to the term "Holy Shit."
Our first twelve hours in Austin were spent at Elysium's lame-ass "80's night," where Riot and I made fun of the patrons who obviously did not know how to party like it was 1985. I did get hit on by one clueless loser, but after he made us buy our own drinks, we decided to totally fuck with him and scare him off by letting our true, utterly fantastic personalities break out in full force. Mission accomplished.
Riot has some friends in the area so the next night, they escorted us over to 6th Street, which is where all the live music venues are. I managed to take in a few of them, but there was one that really cemented itself as an epic win. For those of you in relationships, you know that exact moment when you realize that you want to poke holes in the condoms forever because this is it, and you're TOTALLY in love and nothing will ever change because you've found the one?
That's what happened to me at Emo's.
Emo's is a dirty rock bar that's kind of disgusting and is open every night until 2am. They sell cigarettes and serve all their booze in plastic cups, and their bartenders wear t-shirts that advertise Misfits and Suicidal Tendencies. There are two bars- one inside and one outside- and both of them featured loud, obnoxious punk acts. The guys wear more leather and eye-liner than the girls. I was instantly enthralled and I never wanted to leave.
However, there had to be a last call, so my friends pried the last of my drink from my grasp and pulled me into the car. It's safe to say that I partied hard, and that there will be a next time.
So there's my New Year's post. I know that everyone else isn't a complete slacker and got theirs up like, two days after, but I've been really unmotivated and lazy lately. I'm sorry. Please don't leave me. I promise I'll be good.
OK, even I didn't believe that.
And hey, you guys, if you want to sign up for next month's movie review blogring (props to Christina for pimping this out like a fiend), you have until Thursday to email me at firstname.lastname@example.org. The list is already bigger than last time, and we're doing shitty rom-coms this month in honor of Valentine's Day. So quit being an asshole, and sign up. NOW.