The weekend, part two

I’m a little low on creative writing juice and didn’t want to post these photos without the back story, but a couple of friends who were there really wanted to see ’em. I’ll update this posting a little later on this weekend. I’m sure you folks out there can ratiocinate what happened…

Some minor updates made on Saturday, July 20th

Club 606

Colin drops some beat science over the DJ’s sounds. He’s the youngest of a muscial trio of brothers made up of him, Devin (with drums with Lindi) and Sean (with whom I sometimes jam on Queen Street).

“I love the accordion!” my new bestest friend in the word Tanya exclaimed. This photo explains why I love it too.

See, Paul? I told you this place was jumpin’! We’re glad to be there.

Someone whose name I’ve forgotten and Tanya. Just in case you thought that stuff like this happened only in movies like Coyote Ugly, along comes a counterexample. (I think I’ve referred to Coyote Ugly a gazillion times in this blog, despite never having seen the movie.)

Tanya and her friend again. Life in the Accordiverse is sometimes challenging, but it does have its perks.

“C’mon, you want some, don’t you?” Someone had to be convinced to let a beautiful woman pour free booze down their gullet?

Tanya and friend again. “Look this way or you wont be in the shot!”

Shakin’ their money makers. Unlike Coyote Ugly, the music was actually good — not dance pop cheese, but good house and breakbeat.

A-WOO-gah! Paul signals his approval of 606.

The bar at the back, near the dance floor. More women pouring “Broken Down Golf Cart” shooters down people’s throats.

Who wants some killer Kool-Aid? I do! I do!

Glug, glug, glug.

Jammin’! Colin and I lead the crowd in getting their funk on.

Public Service Announcement:
The value of good haberdashery

The next time I go down…

…to Las Vegas…

…I’m going back to the Hard Rock Hotel…

…straight to their gift shop…

…and I’m going to buy ten of these hats.

Back to our regularly scheduled programming…

Pole dancin’. Tanya and her friend take to the riser by the DJ booth.

Say “ahhh…” Poured into your mouth by gorgeous bartenders and free, to boot! The only way it could’ve been better would be if they had some kind of accordion fetish or were handing out free TiBook laptops.

The Drunken Master rides again! Paul “Cheap Drunk” Baranowski will never turn down free shots.

Got anything for a thirsty accordion player? Thanks to the accordion, occasionally life turns into Maxim magazine.

See? I could’ve been a really good stripper. Check out my pole- dancing technique.

“She’s hawwwwt.” There were many reasons to use Paul’s catchphrase this evening.

Score! Paul and I do our “Butabi Brothers” impression.

Slut School

The new look Will. Damn, it feels good to be a gangsta. Especially when you’re really an interior decoratah.

Rowr! Eva “Purple” Hayes (whose mom coined the phrase “Slut School”) claims the couch.div>

The Slut School gang and me. From left to right: Anastasia, Dorain, Yours Truly and Rick, a.k.a. “Rickshaw”.

Shake it! It took until after the after-hours action began for the dance floor to fill, but the scene was good once that happened. From left to right: Rick, Anastasia, Will.

Lisa! Enjoying the groove.

Me and Lisa. It’s good to be the king.

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