AZ's Diary of a Damned Man

Wednesday night as usual I met Paul and Marc Osorno at BW3. Patty took good care of us as always as we did out best to ignore the drunks getting into college basketball. We filled our guts, talked about broads and B flicks and like I said, did our best to ignore the drunks getting into the game. Patty was really busy but did her best to amuse us and we hung out for a lot longer than usual talking shop.

Beauty and the Beast at the House Of Blues

Hence last night. 745 PM I arrive at the Briar Street Theatre, meet the petite and equally beautiful Jenn for a fulfilled 2 hour set of Blue Men Group. This, with the exception of the AVN Expo is the GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH. and the minute I heard they revamped the gig, I had to get tix. My original plan Curi disappeared so Jenn was the obvious choice, (wagging cigar, "oh what a choice!"). We lauged to tears in every literal sense, LAUGHED and rocked out. Blue Men are the fucking bomb and I knew that Jenns talent and artistic savvy would appreciate such a spectacle. I could hear her laughter over everyone else's.

So, we went to Ranalli's where she became "Barracuda Soprano" the latest entry to the Beer mafia and her photo is "for now" Zandwiched between Jimmy "the Gent" Conway and myself. And by my own and Rich's admission, she is the most godammned cutest photo on our wall of shame, blame, fame and game. Very fucking cute. HEAR ME!

After a few introductory yards and confessions, ( I tend to talk a lot about my ma' these days) we ended up at NEO where we drank, danced and pranced, Everyone was in awe over seeing me in a suit and tie, and my companion was in a tan / flesh toned suede ensemble. We were anti-NEO but at the same time embraced all of it's decadence with grand debauch. For some reason there was a lot of girl to girl kissing going on in my presence, not really a bad thing. Seems someone was getting turned on by it. Not me mind you. The only tite it turns me on when girls are kissing oneanother, is when I'm in the middle. And I cannot refute the call of the Cult when played at that decibel. Lil Devil it was, she was, and I am. And my nigga' Afra was in da haus. He had a lovely gothic lass on his arm and we got stupid as usual.

Ran into Ang and we rapped a bit and for some reason she believes I ditched her. I'm a bad boy, a very bad boy.

This morning my hands bear the reminisce of vanilla. But that's all. And to think it was a school night.

Did I ever tell you reader that, this chick can handle her booze, well and knows how to party!

Hope you're reading this and laughing, though I know you have better things to do.