So I am back from Vegas, also it is my birthday. What does that mean for you? Well I am going to talk shit about Sin City and tell a story related to birthdays and chest boxes.
Vegas. I don't get it. I understand the concept and see how it could be a blast. However I just can't get into it. From what I can see Vegas is all about gambling, drinking alot, trying to get laid, and shows. I don't gamble because I have an addictive personality and I know that gambling would be pretty bad for me. I do enjoy drinking, but my power slamming of alcohol days are long past me. I am more of a marathon drinker than a sprinter. I also prefer to imbibe with friends in a welcoming atmosphere rather than being surrounded by the frat boy mentality of Vegas. That same frat boy mentality goes into the getting laid part. Of course that is why you get hit with all those hooker cards on the strip. The shows part looks like the part I would enjoy the most, however the one show I wanted to see - Penn & Teller - was sold out. In the end the part I enjoyed most was my hotel room view.
Not many mountains here in Texas.
Also this picture made me laugh for a while...it's the little things I guess.
Because apparently you CAN put Baby in a corner. Also there is a Dirty Dancing slot machine. That's good shit.
On to Storytime with the Cake Fucker.
This happened at DragonCon yet again, a magical place and the birthplace of many a nerd story. A large group of us were in the Rebel Legion at the time, and were doing a Rebel Pilot day. Well during the dinner hour a bunch of us Warhawks decided to head down to a little frequented (at the time, I guess in the intervening years this place has changed owners and blown up during the con) pub a few blocks from the hotels. We walk in and sit at a large high top that served as the middle of the room. At the bar was a young lady and an older gentlemen, and in the back room area was another few folks. As we are all ordering food and drinks the young lady (henceforth known as "Bunny") yells out, "It's my birthday!!!" at the top of her lungs. We all politely acknowledge her and tell her happy birthday. As the evening wears on Bunny begins to get more and more boisterous (and trashed), and comes over to our table. She makes her way up and down the group messing with all the guys. Then she gets to me. Apparently in her drunken state, I was the one that she latches on to. She proceeds to grind on me and have her self a good ol' time - basically giving me a lap dance. At the time I was in my B-Wing fighter pilot costume that has a rather large chest box. (this is were Glen makes a cameo to demonstrate!)
So as a nerd the entire time this not unattractive lady is grinding on me I am thinking "Damn I hope she does not break my chest box...". The whole time this is going on she is screaming, "IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!!". When she was done with me she moved on to a friend of ours known as Mini (with some not so subtle coaxing on our part). Mini is less than thrilled with this turn of events. After some more grinding the bartender tells Bunny that she needs to settle down. She then returns to the bar...for about 2 minutes. She then comes back over to me, pulls her shirt up, shoves my face in her chest, and gets her self thrown out. All in all an interesting night and a fun story. There are many more details, but that is the crux of the tale. So from then on whenever the anniversary of ones arrival into this world happens someone invariably yells out "IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY!!".
Ken will be here tomorrow to begin his Heroes odyssey, so come on back to hear of a much more interesting weekend than I had.
Reading this week - "Beastslayer" by William King
As we at That F'ing Monkey prepare for the one year anniversary of Comics, Games, and Booze we will be doing some retrospective and behind the scenes info this week. For my Monday post I shall be telling the story of the Cake Fucker nickname that I obtained many years ago at DragonCon. Not since Marvel delved into the history of that hairy Canuck have people questioned a backstory as much.
(Walter Langkowski opened a mystic barrier that allowed the Great Beast Tanaraq to pass through, and Walter assumed its form)
Anyway it all started in Atlanta, Georgia for DragonCon. Ken and I had gotten pledged into Lambda Sigma Rho by Tony DiGerolamo the writer for Superfrat. That day Ken became Brother Catacomb, the Brother that can summon and control Ray Harryhousen style skeletons.
And I became Brother X-wing. Wait, you ask yourself, I thought you were Brother Cake Fucker? Well settle down I am telling this story, stop interrupting!
That evening we were hanging out enjoying some frosty brews with the oft mentioned artist of Superfrat Chris Moreno. As we were getting nice and toasty another friend of ours, Glen, comes out of nowhere and begins to tell use all about a slice of cake as big as ones head "It's massive and fucking delicious", he says. Well I say "I want fucking cake!". Chris starts laughing his ass off and yells out "CAKE FUCKER!". Apparently he thought I said "I want to fuck cake". He then proceeds to ask if it is a birthday cake if I would blow out the candles first, how it works with an icecream cake, ect. Thus a nickname is born and has stuck ever since. To this day Glen still sends me pictures of DragonCon cake slices when I can't make it to the Con. I am also the only one to ever have his Frat name changed due to extreme hilarity.
For those that wonder, Brother Cake Fucker's super powers are comparable to Superman - as long as he is fucking a cake.
There ya go, the Origin of the Fucker of Cakes.
On a hockey note, the Lightning have tied up the Eastern Conference Finals with the Bruins at two games each. So you can expect a beard update from me next week.
Reading this week: "A Clash of Kings" by George R.R. Martin (I finally have some free time and am almost through it....)
When I ask this group of girls if it is the sweet beard that makes the ladies swoon I received a quizzical look. "Uncle Jesse never had a beard" was the reply. At which point Ken began to argue that he very much did possess a fantastic beard that was the true source of his power. As the conversation went on with both sides thoroughly confused for a few minutes, someone says that Uncle Jesse was portrayed by John Stamos.
