Day 5: Banff Nightlife ... Penetration Achieved

When I lived in Banff in 2000, I came to love this place like almost no other place on earth. I remember crying when I left that spring for the last time. Part of it was the girl (Yes, Kaylee, you), part of it was the house (Gus, Guy, Christie, Eric, Krissy, Jane, Margeaux, Julie and, sometimes, Chris), and part of it was how the town brought out smiles and love in everyone who came through, whether or not they were tourists, residents, or temporary workers. Last night brought back those memories ... what a night. Where to start ...

We tried to go to the St. James Gate, but the line was not moving. While we were in line, this cute blonde was smoking behind us, by herself. More on her later.

Instead of waiting in the not-quite-bitter-but-still-scrotum-tightening cold (which makes me wonder, are scrotums and nipples made of the same stuff?), we headed to the Rose and Crown, a faux English pub.

Yes, it's St. Patrick's Day, and we're celebrating it in an English Pub.  Oh Well. Much, much more after the break...

We played pool for a bit ... won our first game, got destroyed the second time around, by Agrologists.  Is that the science of being Agro?

We also talked to the only other non-Asian minorities in Banff.

When the one man show started, we didn't know what to expect. In the end, this guy was funny, talented, and rockin'.

The crowd swelled and we were now in a very warm, very packed bar.

About that time, I noticed a super cute blonde at the turn by the stage.  She was sitting with a slightly less cute friend, AKA the grenade.   I took Phaux out for a cigarette, and explained to him that his duty as a wingman was to fall on the aforementioned grenade.  At this point, we re-evaluated the grenade, and determined that she was in fact a mortar shell.

Anyway, this is Phaux finishing doing the worm to an Irish Jig, in order to impress our targets.  Take that, River Dance!

Shortly thereafter, I did the superman across the laps of our targets.

The mortar shell did not explode on impact, but started ticking.

The girls kiss ... now the question becomes, is this an opportunity for a three-and-a-half-some?

I believe that her arms are thicker than my legs.

This is actually the cute one ...

Using the headband as a prophylactic ... Am I Macguyver or what?

Some other drunk annoying girl tried to enter the mix and was denied.

I got a little too fresh and Leslie revealed that she had a boyfriend.  Ugh.

After I playfully rubbed a dirty bar rag in her face, she returned the favor ...

Followed by straw sillyness ... at this point we've each had a few beers, a couple shots of Jamesons, and about 4 Jagerbombs.  Yikes.

We show off our Rock Band skills ..

Unfortunately, I am not that flexible.

I promised penetration .. and here it is .. full on nostril-rape.

Delectable!

Apparently, the nostril-rape was a big hit ...

That was the last we saw of those two (well, almost ...) ... but after a quick smoke, we ran into the blonde, Haley, who was in line (at the beginning of the post, keep up!).  Her friend with the faux-plastic-barbie look was less memorable.

Phaux found a new object of his affection, Holly, with an H.

Haley goes for the nuzzle.

Then Holly looked like she was going to collapse, so we high tailed it back to our hotel before we got accused of dropping roofies.

When I got back to the hotel, I realized I still had Leslie's ring ... oops.

Awesome night ... thank you gods of the road trip, you came through again.

Day 0 - in and down

After a long flight from Newark (flawless), I landed, picked up my rental car without speaking to a human (way cool) and drove up into the city, where Zoo was already partying for hours (dick). Alas, the 5 was blocked, so I had to take my first "side road" and ended up driving up the west side through all the docks and industry. I was groggy from a full days' work and flying, but I made it. At least I didn't get pulled over this time... Anyhoo, I met up with Zoo at Juju in Belltown. Thank heavens for the mapping feature on the iPhone.

Here are the photos, photos, photos... And Zoo will provide commentary below.

So we're talking, heads are getting closer, this is after we've already hit the photo booth ...

Heads getting closer, staring awkwardly.  Why the hell not.  I kiss her.  Her: "I have a girlfriend".  I am unflappable.  I start chewing on her neck. Her: "Don't be an asshole."  Me: "Does that mean stop or continue?"  Hijinks ensue.  

Photo booths + alcohol + candlelight = why nobody trusts their partner.

This one's for you D Lam.

One Night in Salt Lake City

You might have some preconceptions about SLC.  No booze, Mormon sensibilities, etc.  We can say definitively that this is not your dad's Salt Lake. Beer is good.   We've had a lot of beer this trip, some excellent, so our standards are a little high right now.

We went to Squatter's Brewpub first, and although some of the beers were pretty average, none were offensive, and two, the Porter and Stout, were excellent. chocolate-ty, barley-laden, thick as mensies.

More beers and hot chicks after the break!

I woke up this morning and said, "I think it's time for the brown lightning." I wasn't talking about the t-shirt.

More beer, less sobriety.

We met Mike and his girlfriend, who may or may not be his baby's mama.  He has a 5 year-old who plays soccer.  He recommended that we move on to a bar called Green Street if we expected to have our own 5 year old soccer players.

Our first attempt at making soccer babies went poorly.  Note to self: Never, ever, get a tattoo in SLC.

Malcolm is from Togo.  That may be the only place that you have an excuse to come to Salt Lake City from.  He was not a Mormon to the best of our knowledge.

Pool skill gets chicks.  This is a fact.  You hit the white ball, right?

Not long after starting to play pool, we were joined by Jacqueline and Mandy.  Jacqueline had sexy stripper legs, which you may or may not be able to see here.  She was my teammate and distracted Spammer enough so we could win.  Apparently, women think winning is sexy.

Mandy didn't really look like a monkey, I'm just not a very good photographer, and she was sad to lose so badly.  Spammer's face seem's sad, but I think that's a pool cue in his pocket!

After wearing out our welcome with the pool girls, we looked for greener pastures.  That led us to Jamie and her friend whose name we forgot.  We'll call her "Rack".

She seemed more excited to be out of focus in this picture ... not suprisingly.

That was enough fun for one night ... we have a long day ahead of us ... this nice taxi driver from Iraq took us home.  He was divorced from a "Mexican woman" and called himself a "player".  Sure.

Time for bed, enjoy the shots!