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Come out to Gretna Saturday Feb. 7 at 6pm if you dare.
]]>Pancho's is returning to Metairie. Flags will be raised, chili will be cheesed, and the sopapillas will ooze with honey.
The real scare is how our bodies are gonna feel after we eat there for the first time.
]]>]]>Several weeks ago, a friend of mine, Kalunda (not his real name) was celebrating his birthday with a night of festivities at visions men's club. After some time at the bar/stage he selected a lovely young Thespian and solicited a lap dance from her. He was taken into the vip area and the entertaining commenced. After only a few brief moments, the entertainer began to convulse in a manner not usually associated with this sort of entertainment. He thought that this was just an unusual part of the routine. Nay. The girl then proceeded to snatch the hat off of his head and vomit in it. My friend instinctively pushed the dancer off of him, retrieved his hat, and went to place it in the bed of his truck. When he returned, he was accosted by a fleet of scantily clad and none to happy thespians at which point they accused him of vomiting on their coworkers and then pushing her to the floor. Needless to say he was astounded and confused as he left the club.
So, here’s the juicy part: as 2:00am rolls around, my wonderful and beautiful girlfriend starts “bopping” around and visiting other patrons of the bar. Apparently, a jealous old lady decided she didn’t want a hot younger chick talking to her husband, so she ran over and started cursing out and threatening the younger adversary. It was like watching animal planet and seeing the old gorilla running around with her saggy boobs scaring the kids…trust me. So, I decided to tell this old gorilla to chill out that Jenna was my girlfriend and she had nothing to worry about. This didn’t work as I had planned. She then wrapped her old arms around me and tried to kiss me asking, “How do you like that?” well, the obvious answer was “Not at all you old bitch, get your saggy arms off of me before I kick your husbands ass (at least that is what I was thinking).” Needless to say, we left to avoid any further trouble.
OR SO I THOUGHT…as I was riding home. I all of the sudden noticed those dreaded flashing lights behind me. Yep, it was a cop. Then a second showed up. As the cop walked up to my window, all I could think was, “FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK OH SHIT I am going to jail!!!!!!!” Believe it or not I was pulled over for an expired license plate. How the hell did he see that before he pulled me over anyway?? So, he was pretty cool and just asked me for my info and walked away. So, I think I am in the clear. That’s when my passenger decided she had to release the demons from her body…yes puke!! Right, I know what you are thinking. If she pukes right in front of a cop, he will know I have been drinking too. So yes, I was fucking freaking out. I begged her to chill out and just relax, but I guess…when nature calls. She actually puked in a water bottle I used during practice. Believe it or not, I actually made it out OK. On that note, I also had a close call last Saturday on the Causeway, but that’s a different story.
If you made it this far, you must be pretty bored, but I thank you for your support. I am also writing this at 3:15am in the morning so cut me some fucking slack. What a scary world!
Peace out,
Rob
In a bold move that left onlookers in shock, bsTony refused the bleep test much in the way an inebriated driver is coached to refuse a Breathalyzer test. Such a pioneer. We salute you B-side Tony.
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This should be an especially fun experience as I possess a sort of practical joke like inflexibility which is sure to make me the dunce at any Yoga class. Maybe next week.
]]>Geoff offered his take on the situation
Rob a/k/a "Killjoy"
Crushing a tot's yen to see his favorite team play its final game is regrettable behavior on your part. Moreover, the tot's step-father has been protecting our country from people who would have you eating baba-ganoush (sorry Malek) rather than chile/cheese everything. Think hard about your decision to ROB this tot of his one chance to see the Saints this season.
"Retribution puke face"
Slobby Bobby ... shocking
Geoff using the opium derived secondary meaning of 'yen' ... off the board.
In other scary news, Matt-O has found one of the 2000 pot holes it our cottage cheese field and tore some ligaments in his ankle.
Now that the season has begun, I am sure we will have plenty of scares, both on and off the field to report.
So stay tuned!!
-Rob
]]>Stay Robbish
]]>Notable scares involved the Augusta pack, which by the end of the game acquiesced in fear to the powerful forward drives of NORFC. One player even turned his back to Briefcase on a quick tap.
The night got a little more interesting when we decided to change venues and head to Bourbon. Well, it was Dave’s last night in the Big Easy so we went to a “dance” club. We were only there for a short while when I noticed a few of us getting “kindly persuaded” to leave. Apparently KK’s lady friend was accused of spitting on one of the “dancers” and she did not like that too much. Following, some other crap must have happened because the last thing we saw in the club was KK getting whacked in the face by some dancer/bartender…ouch! Scary stuff.
We then went to the BBC for a few drinks. We were up on the balcony, and being the friendly guy that I am, I decided to spark up a conversation with this guy standing out there by himself. Hey, he looked lonely. Well, for some reason, this guy did not want to talk to us. Now I have had a few drinks by this time and I don’t remember all the details. What I do remember is that this guy thought he was too good to talk to us. Maybe because he was a doctor, probably because he was a douche. So I decided that if he was a doctor, then I was a psychologist. I decided to “search” for the root of his issues. It took a while and I didn’t really get anywhere. So, Matt-O’s friend Taylor decided that this guy had been a dick for too long and she decided to give him a similar shower that I had received earlier with a few choice words. Yes, she dumped a drink all over him, I think. That was really awesome!! I gotta tell ya, I was really hoping he would say something or try to do something to her, but he didn’t. Possible scare!
It was getting late and we decided to it was time to go to F&M’s. But on the walk down Bourbon as I was telling everyone who would listen how “nice” of a guy I was to help this random guy with his social skills, another really drunk random guy walks up to me and tried to start shit. Apparently this guy, who I had never laid eyes on before, thought I was staring at him. Like I said, I am a nice guy and I informed him that I wasn’t staring. His friends pulled him away. Then, I decided to do the most mature thing I could think of…I turned, pointed and laughed at him. I have no clue why, but that made him really mad. Don’t worry, his friends pulled him away and we left. Don’t worry, T-Breaux was ready. Another possible scare.
Sorry for this long write up, but if you aren’t interested, then why are you reading this crap anyway?
So, it was an interestingly scary night filled with multiple beer showers, head butts, punches, spitting, slapping, drunken counseling, tough guys, verbal abuse, and even a Scottish Guy…if you weren’t there, I know you are jealous!!!
Until Next Time
Rob
]]>Wishing safe and scare-free travels to all those heading to Jax.
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NORFC were on the attack, with the ball moved out wide to Trip. There was a 2 on 1 on the outside, and as Trip offloaded to Rob, Rob's hammy gave out and he went tumbling. It was a double scare as the defender shoulder charged Trip, and as Robbish and Tripper lay on the ground, the sir blew the whistle to mark the end of the half. Rob, ever the overachiever, pulled his hammy, knocked the ball on, and rolled his ankle all in one motion.
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]]>It was an average day in the workshop. I was working on welding some fixtures for the new Massey’s location when I was confronted with a significant problem. In order to prepare raw steel for a coat of clear enamel, it must be cleaned with acetone. I had been cleaning said steel with the aforementioned solvent and depositing the dirty, solvent soaked rags in a trash receptacle which at the present time was located five feet behind me along with an empty can of acetone. The sparks created by the welding process flew over my head and unbeknownst to be ignited the propellant saturated towels. I finished my weld and removed my shield, but when I turned around I was faced with a raging fire. I knew that it was only a matter of seconds before the empty can exploded and filled the shop with fiery shards of death shrapnel. With unprecedented dynamisism (not doubt heightened by the countless cascade and rucking drills) I leapt for the extinguisher and subdued the blaze. Once again a catastrophe was avoided by quick thinking and swift action.
Without boring you with details (or giving Coach Jerry any ideas), I can summarize it like this. Imagine a 2 hour long 'Check 1,2' rucking drill.
And of course they forgot to mention to me that in addition to my mouthpiece and boots, I was supposed to bring my own oxygen to the pitch. There such as shit wasn't any out there.
Stay robbish.
Bus
]]>I have a long overdue scare since we lost our haven for comedic, yet very very realistic release.
A few Saturdays ago, a few of the guys got together after the game to have a few beverages on Magazine street. One of which is our very own Tony “B-Side” Breaux. We ended up at Miss Mays. While we were there, a young lad decides that he does not like b-side very much. So, one of Tony’s buddies decided he didn’t like the young lad very much either and gave him a little “love tap” on the side of the head. This, in turn, made us decide to leave the bar (well the bouncers actually made that decision).
To paint you a picture of what the young lad looked like…well, he was like a Marshall with a terminal illness who was trying to establish his impossible dream as a white rapper. In other words, he was a 5’2”, 125lb piece of shit.
Ok the punch line:
After we go outside and the Mini Me, HIV having Eminem had his “classy” girlfriend threaten us all with, “I have my man’s back!!!”, he then decides to tell us he was going to get his gun. Most of us decided it was time to get the hell out of dodge, but not Tony. He tried to chase the kid down. After much persuasion, ending with Jenna crying, Tony showed his sensitive side and got in my car to make her stop crying. He is true sweetheart ladies. Definitely a SCARE with Tony!!
Until next time…
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