Note: This piece, which was actually written two years ago, ran before last year’s Louisville game. I liked it so much, I couldn’t help but run it again this week. Enjoy.
Not the team (2008 ed. update: the team now also sucks), but the school and the collection of greasy, STD-riddled, sluttastic “students” that attend the school.
Saturday night, I enjoyed a trip to what would be best described as a breeding ground for any and all communicable diseases. If Herpes ever mutates and becomes airborne, Fourth Street Live would be the scene of such a medical miracle.
The night started out well enough, with a pretty damn good dinner and damn good bourbon down the street at Maker’s Mark Bourbon House. Unfortunately, our next choice was a CDC laboratory disguised as a bar: Parrot Beach. To give you an idea of this hole, it was a combination of Bent Willey’s, Banana Joe’s, the Jersey Shore, Hell, and Kentucky. Unfortunately, Kentucky turns out to be the worst of these 5 ingredients.
Look, I like girls dancing on tables as much as the next guy, but I would prefer if those girls rated more than a negative 3 out of 10 on any man’s scale. And last time I checked, C-Section scars aren’t sexy. Louisville girls should keep that in mind next time they decide to wear a Kids-medium sized shirt.
And the guys, even worse. Unfortunately, the bathroom had an attendant, which meant everyone had a chance to put on cologne from his collection. That poor guy must have to restock that cologne every 20 minutes. I walked in and nearly passed out as one chach-ball dumped a whole bottle of Drakkar Noir on his chest. I’m sure his cousin Geno did the same thing.
And lastly, I heard a rumor that they’re taking the gold out of Fort Knox…apparently replacing it with a week’s supply of penicillin for the U of L student body. Trust me, they’ll need every drop. We should drop condoms on that school like we drop food on Afghanistan, just to make sure they don’t procreate.
So as you can see, I enjoyed my trip.