A Bit of Advice

I think its time I used this blog to better the world. I need to put my selfish ways aside and help my fellow citizens make the right choices in their lives. So, from now on, I will be adding an occasional entry full of "worldly advice that will make you a more awesome person, and possibly keep you out of jail".

Today's advice:
If you move into a new home, and then go to a local liquor store for a bottle of wine, and the cashier gives you a free bottle of Crown Royal to welcome you to the neighborhood....say thank you and leave....and don't go back.

If you do happen to go back one night, a few weeks later, with your slightly intoxicated boyfriend, you could get into a sticky situation. It is possible that the same generous cashier will engage you in an angry conversation about the bastard that is 'Total Beverage' when you ask why he doesn't carry any wonderful local Colorado beer. He then may somehow convince you to help him turn off all of the neon signs in his store, teach you how to use his high tech register, and convince you to give him a ride to his home...which is a basement apartment half a block away. He may then tell you that his name is Moses and he is a convicted felon with six bachelor degrees. He may not explain why a man with six degrees is a liquor store cashier. Perhaps he will even invite you into his apartment for some herbal therapy, which you may agree to because the situation is so awkward that your and your boyfriend's curiosity simply gets the best of you. As you enter his apartment, he may explain that the two small children sleeping on the couch do not look remotely familiar. You may recall that he is a felon. A teenage girl checking her myspace on a computer might remind him that one child is his neice...and the other child is a mystery to her as well. He may invite you to his bedroom where you may smoke something from a certain device while Moses tells you that the country is owned by a bank which may be owned by aliens. He might even introduce you to his wife....Sugar. She might not appreciate your laughter when you learn that her name is Sugar. She may inform you that she was given that name at birth but now prefers to go as "Shug Dizzle Izzle". She may not appreciate when your drunk, stoned boyfriend quickly responds with "for shizzle my nizzle". You might feel the need to leave at this point. It may be a good idea. You will probably not be able to stop laughing or calling your boyfriend "Shug" for at least three days. You will both agree that you are far too old to ever again engage in such activities. You will also probably have a heightened level of love and appreciation for your boyfriend for experiencing such a night with you...and later regretting such a night.
Probably. Maybe. Perhaps.

I fought the law...and the beer won.

So if you know me at all, you probably know that I have a ghetto entrepreneurial urge living inside me. More often than not, this leaves me broke and disappointed. Today, it leaves me drunk at a bar.

So I did a little research and discovered that Colorado, as a state, has no scalping laws. Within about four minutes of this discovery, I owed ticketmaster around a thousand dollars. I bought the maximum allowed tickets to the shows I was sure would sell out. My first venture was for a band I'd never heard, but after a little research I discovered are quite popular with the tweens. Little did I know that grown men would sell a testicle to get their daughters a ticket to see these Jonas boys. I still have my doubts about their supposed sibling..ry. Crazy marketing if you ask me. So anyway, those boys bought me a tank of gas which I was very grateful for. And they also convinced me that I could make more than just gas money in this business.

However, I quickly learned that there is a reason the guys selling tickets on the corner always have holes in their shirts. Being a professional ticket scalper ain't no easy task. Long story short, if a show doesn't sell out, and instead decides to drop ticket prices by ten dollars, you end up alone, broke, and drunk at CB&Potts. It's a sad life. Thank god my iPhone has typing correction. If it weren't for that, this blog would look more like this...

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That's right bitches, be grateful.



Update...

I just logged in to see what sort of mess I'd typed up yesterday, and its a bit of a doozy. I arrived at the concert three hours before my boyfriend, and (after selling my extra tickets for a painfully low price) instead of waiting outside in the heat, I chose to go to a bar. Seemed like a good idea at the time...

Also, thank you to the 14 year old boys who bought my tickets, you saved me some tears.

And for anyone that may be curious...Both the Flobots and Offspring rocked the fuckin house. Go see them. Twice. (Just don't ask me for tickets, cause I won't be buying extras)