By Terrence McCoy
By Scott Fishman
By Deirdra Funcheon
By Allie Conti
By New Times Staff
By Ryan Pfeffer
By Deirdra Funcheon
By Kyle Swenson
"If she finishes this," Cletus laughed, nodding at her drink, "I might have a chance."
"He's my ex-boyfriend's friend," Noel said, grinning through her orthodontia.
"Can't you just call me your friend?" Cletus complained.
Not while delivering the same "You ain't got a chance, buddy" message, she couldn't.
While Cletus continued not to get a clue, the talk among Democrats naturally turned to the lameness of the party's recent presidential candidates. (Speaking of which, I have to mention that the JohnKerryIsADoucheBagButImVotingForHimAnyway.com site, which used to explain "why you should vote for Kerry, even though he's not perfect," now has a pic of dude pouring out part of his beer in a gangsta-style commemoration, for his dead homie, "America, 1776-2004.")
Noel interjected, "If this election is as crappy as the last election, I'm writing myself in."
The thought of a 20-something party girl as our next president well, even with the booze and braces, she'd probably still be more articulate than our present commander in queef.
By the end of the evening, my apolitical friends began to arrive. I figured I'd educate, motivate, and make a difference, starting right here at the bar.
"I'll give you ten bucks if you can tell me what these are for," I said, tossing my necklace at Morgan and Erin, who were lounging on one of the retro-mod couches. In the time it took me to go to the bar and get a nightcap, they'd figured it out.
"Something to do with the menstrual cycle, right?" Morgan offered.
I was beginning to think of them as Mardi Gras beads with a mission. Certainly not as effective as a tennis bracelet made of birth control pills, it occurred to me they could provide a very valuable public service.
Just think: If every woman wore her cycle beads, not only would we know the fertile days from the others but we'd know who to avoid because she was PMSing and who was sexually undesirable because she was literally seeing red. Ingenious! Simply ingenious! I simply had to celebrate with one more drink!