Cluster Fuck. Then 8-Ball.

That's how work was last night. Kathy Griffin was at the performing arts center, and we got bombed by all these Griffin-style fag hags wanting to come in and get some eats. It was a mess. Kitchen was fucking up, bar was taking 15 minutes to make drink orders, and one of my tables just kept adding people. Was fucked. The end of the night was good, tho I didn't get out of there til 1130 (we close at 10).

There's this bar in Costa Mesa called "The Huddle" that I went to have a couple of beers at with some coworkers. We played this stupid ass game of pool called "cutthroat." Instead of Stripes vs. Solids, each guy lays claim to a set of 5 balls, 1-5/6-10/11-15, and you're trying to knock in everyone elses before yours get knocked in. Lame.

After our first game, this old cowboy (literally) came over to challenge someone to 8-Ball. No one stepped up, so I did. I ran the table out right away. Chris and Eric, you would be proud. 2 stripes on the break, then 3 more in while the cowboy still had 7 on the table. It ended up being a close game, but I made some amazing shots. I had my coworkers (and the cowboy) surprised at the shots I was making. I won. I saved the table. It was a good game.

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