Last night after watching the Chicago Bears lose in terrible touchdown-less fashion, Oates, HLP, Cliff, and myself went to another bar for a few nightcaps. We started getting friendly with some girls who were in there, and I remember putting on one girls' sweatshirt that was really snug on me and had glitter. I like that feeling of tight clothes clinging tightly to me, like I'm getting a prolonged hug, so I just left it on for an hour or so like a total jackass.
For some reason, perhaps because a Michael Jackson song came on, another chick in there said she could do the moonwalk perfectly. I expressed my doubt that she could, so we agreed that if it was good, I would buy her a drink. She took her shoes off and did a pretty crappy, white moonwalk for a few of us to see. I told her I was not that impressed because when Michael did it, it was faster and it looked like he was levitating, and when he did it for the first time at the Grammy's, we all lost our minds. So, she yelled at me, said I was just some idiot in a girls' sweatshirt, and I'm pretty sure she called me a fag. So, I just laughed my ass off at how angry she got over a stupid moonwalk, and that just made her more mad.
It should have looked a hell of a lot more like this: