Sake Thong and Beer Pong

I went to LA to escape the endless gloom of SF for Labor Day weekend. I stayed with my cousin with an extensive agenda that included loafing by a pool with a margarita.

It was 105 degrees in LA and while broiling myself in the sun, my eyeballs actually perspired. It took over an hour to cool off, which included a cold-ass shower that didn't take. When driving in a hot wasteland, did you ever notice the "mirage" effect on the road in front of you? Like the horizon warps and you almost see a pool of water within the wavy heat lines? That's what appeared when you looked at me after an hour session by the pool.

Anyway, on Friday my cousin took me to his ex-girlfriend's birthday bash at what I deemed as the Japanese version of "Senior Frogs" in LA. Waiting outside, I heard the drunken' hoots and hollers of men and women over the backbeat of the Village People's YMCA, which begged the question "Sake Bomb" or "Sake Thong"? Was this like a Chip and Dale's deal-i-o? He told me of a horrible alcoholic concoction which combined beer and sake. The drinking ritual comprised of balancing a shot of sake on two chopsticks placed over a mug filled with beer. After the "performance staff/waiters" chanted "Sake!" to the audience's "Bomb!" a few times, everyone then slams the table with their fist, causing the sake to drop into the beer which is then chugged. Yes, a bit on the frat-party tip I agree, but after the glass of wine and "BMF" glass of Maker's Mark I sucked down prior to attending, it appeared more fun. You know how I love booze and violence! Anyway, the alcohol combined with the massive plate of tuna sashimi I scarffed down didn't sit well, so after the fun wrapped up, I asked my cousin and his new blurry twin to bring me home to pass out. The next day, I was puzzledd as to why my left hand was covered with bruises. Following my uncle's sound advice, I sweat all the booze out at the gym the following day (I'm sure the chick on the elliptical next to me got drunk off my alcoholic fumes).

On that Sunday, the bar staff and regular patrons threw a BBQ which included a keg, many a 12 pack, hard liquor, and a funnel. This was the makings of a drunken' frat boy's wet dream.

A good time was had by all. I suppose licking wet pavement could be considered fun if you are drunk enough. I did my damage on that Friday and was well behaved for the remainder of my trip. All in all...you got it...good times.