Shot Down

I was reading through the Violent Farmer blog the other day, and I decided it needed a bit of historical perspective. I figured I needed to tell some stories from back when Paul drank a lot. I guess that doesn't make it much different than today though. Instead, I think I'll tell stories about when I used to drink a lot and laugh at Paul's drunken misfortune. My favorite times with Paul were when we were drinking and he'd fire on the women.

One night we were at a bar. Drinking and ogling women. And you know, that's what Paul does best. Drinks and ogles women. He'd probably be better off if he were better at something more practical like sex or fantasy baseball. But he's a helluva woman ogler.

Anyway, we were ogling women at this bar when we noticed a hot woman dancing like crazy. So we ordered up three more pitchers and watched some more. She was dancing like crazy. She was dancing with a bunch of different guys, some chicks, all by herself, and even took a pool cue for a spin. She danced for a long time, six or seven pitchers I'd guess, before she finally took a break. She sat down just a few tables away and downed some ice water in that strange, sexy way that only drunk guys can see. So Paul worked up his courage (by worked up his courage, I mean, slammed a couple glasses of beer) and sauntered (by sauntered, I mean staggered) over to her table.

He put his hand on the table and asked in his smoothest voice, "Would you like to dance?"

The incredibly hot, dancing woman finished her water, looked deep in Paul's eyes and replied, "I don't dance."

Now this might seem like the low point, and Paulie was inconsolable. But it could get worse.

A few days later we ventured out to another bar. Of course we decided we should have a few pitchers and ogle the women. We noticed a particularly hot chick sitting at the bar talking to her friends.

After seven or eight more pitchers, Paulie was making his move. He was chatting up her friends trying to get a little something going with her. Finally, he put on the full court press.

He asked her, "Hey, what's your name?"

She looked up and coolly replied, "I don't have a name."