Heeeeeee-aaaaah OR Martial Arts Ass; Trouble in the Making

Howdy doody All,

My apologies on the blog delay…got a scathing email from one of my friends who thinks this thing is like crack…can’t go without a fix.

Let me detail what’s going on in a short list then I’ll give you a story:

Job is driving me crazy
Have a date with Dart Hotty this Friday
Gay Pride is this weekend (I think I’ll get plenty-o-bloggfodder)
I have quit drinking

On to the story…

Okay, so you know that I love my energy drinks (favorite is my namesake, Rockstar). Anyway, I pulled into a convenience store that has the energy drinks I like, when Rockstar isn’t available. I walk through the doors…

Hello Hotty, working the counter…I went and got my drink, and proceeded to the checkout. The guy is a blonde (don’t usually go for them, as a rule, but every rule has an exception), and has a worked out bod.

I set the 8 oz can down on the counter, and give him a little smile of “hola”, because I’m the only one in the store, figuring a good flirt never hurt anyone…

He smiled back and said, “Just the energy drink?”

Enter a little background information…
The name of the energy drink is Donkey Kick…Me, being me (as I only I could), got it mixed up with another “donkey” phrase.

I replied, “Yeah, just need a Donkey Punch,” and then proceeded to turn 18 shades of red, hoping…praying…wishing…that he did not catch that slip up (If you don’t know what a Donkey Punch is, go here www.answers.com/topic/donkey-punch).

Of course, the gods of luck are fickle (giving me the big thumbs down on this one), and he knows exactly what a Donkey Punch is, as evident by his obvious enjoyment at my discomforting embarrassment.

I pay and leave the store quickly…
Only to return a week later…
Guess who was working?

I enter the store, get my drink, and head to the counter, all the while chanting, “Donkey Kick, Donkey Kick, Donkey Kick, Donkey Kick.” There was no way I was going to mess that one up again.

He gives me a smile, recognizing me from my last purchase…

Trying to beat him to the punch I said, “Just the Donkey PUNCH today!”

It just flew out of my mouth, like vomit from a horrible case of seafood poisoning (it’s the worst…trust me on that one). My chanting hadn’t paid off…It just had made me concentrate on my past faux pas all the more.

“I can’t believe I just did that, AGAIN,” I said to the hotty…

“Me either...”

“Thanks...at least I’m 2 and 0,” I stated, red-faced…leaving the store…mentally chanting, “Donkey Punch, Donkey Punch, Donkey Punch…(Hello Rainman).” Maybe I would make the same mistake again, and say the right phrase the next time.

Now, when I go into the store (the hotty doesn’t work there anymore), and pay for it…I don’t care what I say… You only live once, and now it’s a PJ (private joke) with my friends.

I’ll take a couple of Donkey Punches any day of the week…the drink (potty minds)…

“Call Dr. Freud, you’re slip is showing”

deutschmarc

P.S. If you want email updates of my blog postings, email me at dmchronicles@yahoo.com