Fond memories arise as we approach Billy Ray's patio. The last time I had the pleasure of this patio involved BBQ and an electronic bull.
But alas, tonight was not going to compare. It is, in fact, hard to compare with a pabst riddled patio and free bull rides, and discovering that your thighs are not as strong as you suspected as your face plants into the mat, pride wounded. Would this night result in wounded pride? Yes, yes it would.
Libation: Liquor drinks for $3.50. Pati-hell-yah! And strong to boot. In fact, you can get pabst served in a boot.
Laughter: As always, we entertained ourselves. The patio was not too crowded, as we made the decision to retire upstairs to the Ms. Pac Man machine. There was a healthy crowd, none of whom were entertained by the likes of us. And if you aren't entertained by four ladies discussing the rise and fall of the East Coast Family, then shame on you. So...Pati-no.
Love: I have been single for a long time, and I have discovered that my once lengthy list of preferred requirements for a gentleman caller has significantly shortened. I recently made out with a guy with no teeth, and possibly no home. Not one of my prouder moments. How-some-ever, I discovered that regardless to the copious amounts of alcohol I imbibed, I will not go home with a guy who insists on being called "Fetch". A girl still has standards, thank Baby Jesus. So, this category gets a big fat Pati-no.