Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Impressing?

Wracked my brain, trying to come up with something to blog about, since this thing is supposed to be about writing.  Are you impressed yet?

Didn't think so...

Last night, the office took our boss out to The Ice House, which is a local comedy club.  This was our Christmas gift to our boss.  The Ice House is named that because it used to be a storage facility for ice back in the day.  During the time when the Wrigley family (of chewing gum fame) used to live in the area maybe?



There used to be ostrich farms in the area too.  Ever have an ostrich burger?  There is a place nearby that still serves them.








But I digress.  Boss picked last night to go because Kevin Nealon (SNL and Weeeds) was headlining. Kevin was funny, and he didn't use a lot of curse words.  Sure there were some, but it wasn't every other word, like some other comedians.

And he was nice too.  I saw him standing around waiting to go on when a guy approached Kevin (yeah, I'm on a first name basis with Kevin)about a photo which Kevin had no problem with.

But let me back up.  We started out at Le Gran Orange restaurant where we sat at the bar.  I have a hard time drinking and driving (and we had to drive) so I had ice tea.  The others had two rounds of alcohol.  And nachos, there were nachos...

Next we carpooled to The Ice House.  Since I didn't drink, I drove one of the cars.  At the ice house there is a two drink minimum.  I'm confessing here that I broke my 'no aspartame' rule.  I didn't want to drink anything too fattening so I got two diet cokes. I know... I'm such a hard core drinker, right?

Anyway, that put everybody else at a four drinks a piece.  Boss started into his tirade about how he dislikes Brad Garrett.  "Aw," I say.  "I like him. from 'Everybody Loves Raymond', right?"

Well, according to boss, Brad Garrett stole his girlfriend back in the day.  Mind you, this is four drinks into the night.  I think I'm inclined to believe him, only because he had mentioned not liking Brad a few times.

The show was over before 10p.  At loose ends, we decide to head over to the Langham for even more drinking.







This place is gorgeous.  It used to be a Ritz Carlton and, if I'm not mistaken, still plays host to the Television Press Critics annual fall event.

We have two more drinks each here (total six and counting). I have hot chocolate, to heck with the 'eating healthy'.



Talk turns into giggles and I tell the group about my friend who used to work at the hotel and who swears the bungalows are haunted.  My friend worked the front desk many nights and people in the bungalows would often check out in the wee hours of the morning, claiming rocking chairs rocked by themselves, or radios mysteriously turned on by themselves.

By that point it is 1 am.  Semi-sobriety has returned so I drive people to their cars.  A good/fun night has been had by all.  The bad news is I had to go back to work the next morning.  This hopefully explains why I am not waxing eloquently about the pleasures/pains of writing.

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