Last night I experienced the pleasure of my first blogger meet. It was a nice warm-up for Blogasm 2008 but let the attendees be warned, for this new experience taught me that this Bombshell gets extremely shy when meeting fellow bloggers. Though I’m normally not bad at making friends, there’s just something about seeing someone in the flesh after reading about their life for ages that makes me feel extra super duper awkward… Perhaps I’ll do better next time.
Despite my shyness it was such a treat to meet Dave of Blogography and his crew of devoted Los Angeles fans at Lucky Strike on Hollywood Blvd. Unfortunately, I had to cut out early to see UCLA vs. UW at the Rose Bowl, so I missed out on bowling and meeting Neil and Sophia of Citizen of the Month. Which is lame since I’m the one who tipped him off that Dave was coming to town. Our guest of honor was every bit as cool as I’d already presumed from his writing, in fact, now that I’ve witnessed him in his full three-dimensional glory, I’m betting that his writing will take on some extra dimension for me, as well.
Dave, thank you so much for giving long-time readers like me the opportunity to get to know you a little better. I was really impressed with all the fun things you did to make your guests feel so greatly appreciated. I wore my artificial duck button to brunch today alongside my Ninja who donned his “I am the decider” pin. He’s now a believer regarding the undercover geek status I claim. We both hope to see you again some time. Oh, and here’s the pirate joke we owe you:
So a pirate walks into a bar, swaggers up to the barkeep and demands a glass of rum. The bartender, being a reasonable fellow, makes no complaint but simply grabs a large glass, a bottle of fine dark rum, and begins to pour. And while he’s waiting for the glass to fill he sizes up the pirate, having never seen a real honest-to-God pirate before.
This pirate is in full regalia: gold earrings, patch over the eye, a big filthy white blouse covering his swarthy chest, tattoos everywhere, all of it… but protruding from his pirate trousers is the unmistakable form of a ship’s wheel. As the glass of rum tops off, the barkeep skims it across the bar to the pirate, who nods curtly and downs it in one huge swig. Slapping a dubloon on the bartop, he turns to walk away when our bartender’s curiosity gets the best of him.
“Wait, one second. What’s up with the steering wheel?” and the pirate turns back and fixes him with a beady glare from his lone eye, “Arrr, I don’t know, but it’s drivin’ me nuts!”
18 comments September 23rd, 2007