The Oscars, live from... Hooters?!
Today is a scheduled cessure of operations for administrative purposes. Too bad I remembered this AFTER my morning shower and fang brushing...
....So Sunday evening brought us to Hooters and the laughter ensued miles from the destination...
Clime: You missed the turn. We are going to Hooters, right?
LBG: Shit. Yeah.
(picking up earlier conversation)
Clime: ...So it sounds to me like Stace is a really consciencious parent. That's good.
LBG: Yep. She's an excellent mother.
Clime: The whole swearing thing proves it.
LBG: She's so picky about that that Russ gets upset when he hears swear words.
Clime: That's good. I was twenty four the first time that I sweared in front of...
LBG: (laughing) What?
Clime: When I sweared in front...
LBG: (uncontrolled laughter) Sweared?!
Clime: Holy crap! Swore! SWORE!
LBG: That's maybe the only time I ever heard you misspeak...
LBG: (uncontrolled laughter)
LBG: (uncontrolled laughter)
LBG: (uncontrolled laughter)
So, we hit Hooters. Appetites in tow. Contrary to popular belief, the food is the reason we go, granted, every three months or so. Sundays are nine dollar crab nights. This is dangerous to the company, as LBG, Stodgy, and I can crack a pound of crablegs in less than five minutes. Barehanded; no cracker. This was our intent.
Pretty young thing: You guys ready to order?
Clime: yes ma'am.
LBG: I'd like a pound of crablegs, and an order of chicken strips, hot.
Pretty young thing: And you?
Clime: A pound of crablegs, an order of wings, done Bentley style, and an order of fries. Oh, and a side of Bleu Cheese...
So we are cracking crab legs like the world-class crableg cracking athletes that we are(and just call us on it, I dare you. We'll bury you, in crableg shells.) when I notice two of the regular gals in evening gowns working the tables. It is Oscar night.
OscarPromoGirl: Hey! Do you guys want a printed list of all the Oscar nominees?
Clime and LBG: ~Blank stare~
OscarPromoGirl: Um, I guess you guys aren't interested... see ya!
LBG: You got it!
Oscar Girl was a trainee, once, and we were one of her first tables, so no offence was either given or taken.
It was a good thing that all that food came before Chris Rock's monologue, otherwise I would have lost my appetite. LBG agreed with me that in that one event, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences has been lowered to the gutter. Further proof was a video bit featuring Chris Rock, that could have been done well, as a biting commentary and a jokingly jabbing piece on a facet of black culture was reduced to a video piece celebrating the ghetto culture.
I'm Black.
I'm Poor.
I'm Proud of it.
One of the closest colleages of mine is a man from Ghana, West Africa. He came here after making a brave try at the English Soccer Association. His knees were already too damaged, so no entry into the Premier League and to the States he came. His take was "man, thats bad. very bad."
....So Sunday evening brought us to Hooters and the laughter ensued miles from the destination...
Clime: You missed the turn. We are going to Hooters, right?
LBG: Shit. Yeah.
(picking up earlier conversation)
Clime: ...So it sounds to me like Stace is a really consciencious parent. That's good.
LBG: Yep. She's an excellent mother.
Clime: The whole swearing thing proves it.
LBG: She's so picky about that that Russ gets upset when he hears swear words.
Clime: That's good. I was twenty four the first time that I sweared in front of...
LBG: (laughing) What?
Clime: When I sweared in front...
LBG: (uncontrolled laughter) Sweared?!
Clime: Holy crap! Swore! SWORE!
LBG: That's maybe the only time I ever heard you misspeak...
LBG: (uncontrolled laughter)
LBG: (uncontrolled laughter)
LBG: (uncontrolled laughter)
So, we hit Hooters. Appetites in tow. Contrary to popular belief, the food is the reason we go, granted, every three months or so. Sundays are nine dollar crab nights. This is dangerous to the company, as LBG, Stodgy, and I can crack a pound of crablegs in less than five minutes. Barehanded; no cracker. This was our intent.
Pretty young thing: You guys ready to order?
Clime: yes ma'am.
LBG: I'd like a pound of crablegs, and an order of chicken strips, hot.
Pretty young thing: And you?
Clime: A pound of crablegs, an order of wings, done Bentley style, and an order of fries. Oh, and a side of Bleu Cheese...
So we are cracking crab legs like the world-class crableg cracking athletes that we are(and just call us on it, I dare you. We'll bury you, in crableg shells.) when I notice two of the regular gals in evening gowns working the tables. It is Oscar night.
OscarPromoGirl: Hey! Do you guys want a printed list of all the Oscar nominees?
Clime and LBG: ~Blank stare~
OscarPromoGirl: Um, I guess you guys aren't interested... see ya!
LBG: You got it!
Oscar Girl was a trainee, once, and we were one of her first tables, so no offence was either given or taken.
It was a good thing that all that food came before Chris Rock's monologue, otherwise I would have lost my appetite. LBG agreed with me that in that one event, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences has been lowered to the gutter. Further proof was a video bit featuring Chris Rock, that could have been done well, as a biting commentary and a jokingly jabbing piece on a facet of black culture was reduced to a video piece celebrating the ghetto culture.
I'm Black.
I'm Poor.
I'm Proud of it.
One of the closest colleages of mine is a man from Ghana, West Africa. He came here after making a brave try at the English Soccer Association. His knees were already too damaged, so no entry into the Premier League and to the States he came. His take was "man, thats bad. very bad."
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