When I was little, I was a midget football cheerleader. This required me to jump around one day a week in a cute little pleated skirt. Not much skill was involved. Hell, I’m not even sure we ever practiced. I basically would show up, wave my pom-pom like it was a snow globe, and eagerly take down the orange slices and juice boxes at half time.
My parents were REALLY proud.
Fast forward to sophomore year of high school. I opted to try out for basketball cheerleading, as I realized all the coveted football cheerleading spots already would be taken by girls way cooler than me. Not only were...
Having had one too many multiple-night stands with that herpes-infested slut Carol, it was time to find a new late-night haunt. Although it is ONLY open until 3 a.m. on Saturdays, Richard’s in West Town is a pretty good mistress … I mean replacement.
Sidenote: The last time I was there, Rocky the bartender let us stay after the bar closed and smoke AT THE BAR. Old-school green ashtrays and all! Although I don’t smoke much anymore, it felt really good to be smoking inside a drinking establishment. Especially in the dead of winter.
Cough, cough. Really good. Cough. Who’s cool now?