So, I went to Cactus Club with a couple of my ladyfriends the other night. Saturday, to be exact.
And I must say, I have not lately been to a bar that was such a complete and utter sausage fest. Also: men, don't drink frozen drinks. If you're getting brain freeze from your alcohol, you should be a high schooler spiking your Slurpee, not an adult in a club. Just saying (I didn't see any women drinking frozen drinks, so just the men get the warning today).
Best part, there was this guy we called "Christian Slater" there. Had the whole 80s Slater hair thing going. Funny. He was wearing an powder blue argyle sweater and we were all taking shots at him. We decided he thought he was hot shit, but he wasn't really that attractive. We decided he'd probably suck in bed, and that the girls he was talking to, he was like "Hey, you girls should meet up with us later" and tried to get their numbers, but no dice. It was said that he was the kind of guy you wouldn't take home because you didn't want him to know where you lived. Not that he'd do anything, you just didn't want him to know, man. It was all very amusing.
And then this older dude, old enough to be Christian Slater's father, was there, and he ... he was the older incarnation of Christian Slater! Navy blazer, khaki pants, probably loafers or boat shoes. Same stupid hair, and an obvious enjoyment of tanning in his youth.
Finally I yelled out (it was loud; no one heard), as Old Christian Slater went over to speak to Young Christian Slater, "Hey, man, you're not supposed to talk to yourself when you go back in time! You can CREATE A PARADOX or your head will explode or something!" My friends laughed and we wondered if, indeed, they were father and son.
Also, some guy came in wearing a "cowboy" type shirt that had something that looked an awful lot like either balls or Peter Griffin's chin on it ... hrm ...