Oy, can she ever. She's about 5'10" and probably not an ounce more than a buck fifteen, so I figure that about half of that must be liver. She's actually a good friend who I never would have figured would be interested in me, so I want to make sure that whatever fun we have, we still get to be friends on the other side of it.

what the hell is grumplin?

Something so disgusting that only the french dare attempt it.

How in the hell did I miss this thread? Great news, Colin! I'm glad you're having fun again!

girls are nice and soft and smell good.


(i'm glad too)

D'ja have that "my pillow smells like her" moment? Those are friggin awesome.

Awesome, Colin.

so . . . i just read this.

I had an awesome time. She came over to my place and I drove us down to 6th street. We went to the Old Pecan St. Cafe and had dinner and excellent conversation. From there we went to Casino El Camino and sat in the dimly lit upstairs and continued with some really good conversation, with her insisting on buying since I had sprung for the meal. From there (after talking about film quite a bit), I took her to the awesomest video store, a place called I Luv Video, which is two stories and has about a bazillion videos. We had been talking about comedies, and she had never seen Blazing Saddles, so we went with that.

Back to my place. Wine, laughter, holding forth on the back patio, more wine, more laughter. Finally, something was going to happen, and happen it did. After getting sort of hot with her, I had made a fatal mistake. Whereas she has the liver of Dionysus himself, I am a mere mortal, and started feeling like total shit because I had just spent 6 hours drinking with a world-class black belt in drinking. So rather than get anywhere past a very chaste second base, I had to kiss her goodnight (which was still quite nice) and go pray to the porcelain God. My new roommate woke me up on the bathroom floor around 4AM, and I went to bed. I woke up at noon, and have been killing off a red wine hangover since then. I had a good conversation with the new guy today, and have been reading Bernard Malamud, and am cooking pasta.

The best part about the story? I'm seeing her again tonight (this time with friends, but there's always the potential for something at the end of the evening).

The moral of this story? I need to remember that I will never be able to drink like she does, so I shouldn't even try.

My evaluation? Still one of the best nights I've had in a long time. I like the idea of romantic social contact with girls. They're nice and smell good. I look forward to tonight.

My first crush was the next door neighbor girl, named Stacey. It was first grade. We used to catch toads together, which we'd keep in the bottom of an abandoned bathtub, and ride bikes up and down the block.

My first crush was the next door neighbor girl, named Stacey. It was first grade. We used to catch toads together, which we'd keep in the bottom of an abandoned bathtub, and ride bikes up and down the block.

My nigga.

what i meant was, yeah, it was pretty awesome.

mmm, pretty girl smell.

always.

.. By next, of course, I mean, if you don't consider Bloor and the Senator describing 'most every damn Afro-American athlete as "REAL STREET NIGGA", to be of a piece with the complimentary "my nigga".

Nice work. Play it cool tonight. You're a smart dude going for the tall girl.

Colins rule, but you certainly rule more.