UCLA vs USC Preview

UCLA vs USC Preview

UCLA vs USCSo for the big game this Saturday, plans are shaping up pretty sweet. I turned down a ticket to the game because it’s at the Coliseum this year and all my Beta bros are on the Westside. I mean, I’m a proud Trojan alum and have been know to rock the Ice Cube, but I’ll take the Westside over the South Central anyday. At a Coliseum game, there’s like no fuckin’ parking. I once parked my Beemer on some dude’s lawn for $30 and wound up with some gnarly keying on the driver’s side. Fuck that shit. Plus there’s no good bars down there like in Pasadena. So you can see why I’m pretty not stoked on going down there.

Anyhow, the game’s at 1:30 so I’m thinking my bros and I will start out at Barney’s Beanery, the newish one on 3rd Street (not the gay one) probably around 11ish. It’s a real hot scene there. Lotsa chicas bonitas all the time. One night I met this totally smokin’ paralegal there. But she was all like yap-yap-yap-yap about her fuckin’ job and wanted to go dancing at Gotham up the street. I am so not up for dancing like some Bruin faggot, so I ended up hanging at the pool table with my bros. Plus Barney’s has like all these old school Playboy pages all over the bathroom walls you can check out while your whizzing. Too cool. Barney’s does breakfast so I’ll wash down some flapjacks with some Pale Ale. We usually try and get a table where we can hear the TVs inside and still clock the Promenade action.

After that, probably about 11:45-noonish, we’ll make our way down to Yankee Doodles, also on 3rd Street. We should be ready to party at that point. Yankee Doodles is a pretty sweet sports bar. I won this radio station raffle there once. They have pool tables and tons of TVs. You need to steer clear of the couples and touristy types to focus on the female talent. I am so hoping Debra is not working the door that day. (Long story.) So we’ll probably go with something light, like some bacon cheddar potato skins, jalapeno poppers, something like that. Barry will probably have those mozzarella sticks even though they made him puke last time. (There’s just no telling that guy what to do. ) So we’ll do the appetizers, a few more brews, but not the wings though. You’ll see why. So about 12:45-1, when we’re done rocking there, we’re good and ready for this party to get kicked off. Yankee Doodles, hasta la vista.

Next we’ll make our way down 3rd Street and hook a right on Broadway to Hooters. Now you see why we didn’t have the wings at Yankees. There’s totally a plan here. So we’ll order up some real Hooters wings and pitchers of Red Dog. Just don’t get the super hot ones, whatever you do. Trust me on this. I need to remember to ask the manager if they found my cap I left here last time. Which reminds me, last time here sucked big time.

I was so wasted I wandered across the street to that totally gay Britannia pub across the street from Hooters. It was all like a bunch of old farts sitting around watching soccer. I said, “Soccer sucks” and tried to put the DirecTV on the Sox. Then some big ass British hooligan dude wraps me up in a headlock and called me a bunch of shit I can’t even pronounce. I was all like “Let me go you limey faggot!” Then he threw me out, almost into an oncoming Blue Bus. I lost one of my favorite thong sandals in the scuffle. Funny thing is, my cap stayed on, until I came back to Hooters. I think our waitress made off with it. That was a crazy day. My bros never let me hear the end of that one, losing a cap and sandal in one afternoon.

So after the medium-heat wings, we’re going to be totally lit and ready to hit the Wilshire stretch of bars. First up is JP’s, a totally authentic Irish pub, with like a shamrock on the door, so you know it’s pretty sweet. After one more round and a couple of racks of balls (that’s pool balls, get your mind out of the gutter, faggot), We’ll make our way down all Wilshire spots: Sonny MacLean’s, O’Briens, The Shack until finally we peak at Cabo Cantina, right next to my apartment in Brentwood. Well, Brentwood adjacent anyways. Sure as shit ain’t saving me any rent, that’s for sure. So Cabo Cantina is a rockin’ good time, all the time. I’m down here 5, 6 nights a week after work. It’s a great scene, pretty much all the locals hang there. It’s all like dayglo fiesta colors and Miller Lite streamers. Too sweet. You just know it will be going off for the big game. By that time, it’ll probably be around 3:30 by then, just in time to catch the end of the big game.