THE DIRTY LOU

My St. Louis journey officially began last Friday night when I packed a bag and left for work. Since I usually don't get off until 2:30AM or so (no - not like that!) I knew my 7AM morning call would come early, so I crashed at my buddy/travel companion's place. The Mighty Mohawk and myself would be embarking on our first road trip together!

MY CHARIOT AWAITS!

That's a picture of my whip parked at a truck stop somewhere in the middle of God-knows-where-Illinois. Despite hearing horror stories about Megabus, I was pleasantly surprised. The bus was clean, comfortable and the fare was a modest $15 in each direction. Considering gas would have cost at least $100 round trip, this was a steal!

Once Mohawk and I arrived we walked across downtown St. Louis to meet up with my friends/hosts at their hotel. After many, many, many HUGS the 4 of us made out way down to the Soulard 'hood. Along the way we encountered an ass load of people that had clearly decided to start drinking EARLY. At 3PM people were staggering drunk, and literally falling down in the street.

"SHOW US YOUR TITS!"  

While stumbling about we encountered this scene in which guys were yelling at the women in those windows to show us their "girls". When said women wouldn't comply, or took too long to do so, several of the drunk assholes int he crowd expressed their frustrations by throwing full cans of beer at them and calling them "BITCHES". Classy. 

Regardless of the presence of a few fucking 'tards, the HUGE crowd was generally well behaved, even if they couldn't walk a straight line to save their lives. Either way, I didn't care because I was with Mohawk, Cloudy (sorry - lame pseudonym babe!) and her hubby Army Man (ditto). 

ARMY MAN & CLOUDLY

After we consumed several of those 48oz pitchers we sought refuge in a bar since it was colder than Ann Coulter's heart. Last time Cloudy and I hung went carousing in St. Louis we hit up Clemintine's, which is apparently the oldest gay bar in St. Louis. The line was long as hell but the people around us in it were super funny and made the time fly. 

Just after we got in I got a text from Cockbag LLC. It's always great to meet fellow bloggers in person and he was no exception. Actually, almost all the people I had direct with were super nice. Especially, 2 particular guys I ended up making out with...at the same time. Lord knows how I pulled that off but the shots we shot seemed to help. 

The night devolved from there. Mohawk tried to pick up this girl but puked on the street, and at my suggestion that we should "FUCKING GAMBLE!!!" we walked the 80,000 blocks north to the Lumiere Place Casino. Though I quickly blew through my whopping gaming budget of $10, I really enjoyed walking around the casino. I don't know what is, but I really enjoy the atmosphere of a smokey casino...

Since Mohawk got locked out of the our hotel room, I opted to go back and let him in. He needed to clean up and wanted to smoke a joint. On my way up to the room I shared the elevator with 2 random DRUNK girls. In my infinite drunken wisdom, I decided that Mohawk might want to meet with these ladies, and they were game for smoking up. 

Again, my drunken "wisdom" allowed me to suggest that the 4 of us try to gain access to the roof of the hotel (this actually isn't as crazy as it sounds - as I've done it before in other hotels) to smoke. The waiter to spoke to (more like slurred my words to) in the restaurant on the 30th floor thought I was fucking crazy but quickly wrote me off as a Mardi Gras "casualty". 

We did eventually smoke in a parking lot of some sort if memory serves (it probably doesn't) and I soon after realized I needed to go to sleep, much to the chagrin of Cloudy & Army Man. The morning after they gifted me a new nickname: "Cuddle Monkey". The lesson? If you're a happily married couple that seeks a pleasant night of sleep, DO NOT LET ME SHARE THE BED WITH YOU. You *might* just wake up with me rubbing your husband's pecs...I'm just saying.