DINO DINCO : GIRLS ON FILM

So I said to Nacho, "Damn, Nacho, I'm tired of being around The Gays. They're so....homosexual. Let's go meet some girls..." Thankfully, Nacho is down for anything and we headed off to a bar that we heard was filled with "Hooters" style girls. ("Hooters" is... oh just Google it.) I would tell you the name of the place but then all you fashion guys would head there and steal our women. NO WAY. Do your own legwork, knuckleheads!

Nacho and I entered the bar and it was darker than I expected. I said, "Are you sure this is the place, Nacho?" And he's all, "I'm sure of it. My cousin talks about it all the time. And he's a total player." Cool. I looked around and didn't see many women. Just a couple of guys sitting by themselves at the bar or mingling in and out to smoke. I thought that maybe it was an "off" night. Then I saw a couple of ladies over near the corner next to a vending machine. In the dim lighting, I could make out their figures and they seemed...well, like some rather formidable women. They were tall and robust -- with suprisingly strong jawlines. They slinked out the door and I thought they were leaving, but they kinda hovered in the doorway, just beyond the sheer leopard print curtain acting as a delicate barrier to the beyond-cruel outside world. I assured Nacho that we still had hope. "These women are just playing hard to get. Remember? That's what women do (I've heard)... not like The Gays who say, "Hi! I'm..." whoever and lunge for your lap." Nacho and I had a few more beers and some more women filtered in. Bare midriffs. Fishnets. Shawls. Big hair. (They must be from Texas, I thought.) And very high heeled shoes. ("Nacho...it's a sign of very strong calf muscles. These women must be gymnasts or rock climbers or something.") I don't really drink very much usually, but Nacho and I were throwing back the brewskis. The women started getting closer and closer. All of a sudden, Nacho and I were surrounded...by a heady cloud of awkwardly intermingling perfumes. We met Chyna and her friend Asia. I forget what the other girl's name was but I think it might have been Mongolia. We were all talking about the good old days when some biker dude started hugging on me and Nacho. He whispered in my ear, "I want you." Hmm. Sorry, man, maybe some other time, but tonight, I'm on the prowl for a busty, lusty lady.

You know those last 10 minutes just before a bar closes when all the love seems to crystallize? Everyone's hugging and laughing and singing really loudly to "Hotel California" playing on the jukebox. You've stripped off your outer layers as your body is radiating that sunny, boozy warmth that only comes from a healthy lifestyle. Things were a little hazy but did Chyna just pull down her blouse and squeal, "Look at my titties! Go 'head, touch em!"?? Maybe I'm more out of touch with this whole "picking up girls" scene than I thought. Irregardlessy (use this word when you want to piss off an English Studies major), I pulled out my camera to capture a few shots of our new girlfriends. Nacho and I had asked for some phone numbers but the next day, I realized that the girl I liked (I have a weakness for girls named Mongolia) had only written down 6 numbers (in lip liner) and 2 of the numbers had blurred. And Nacho's girl's phone had already been disconnected. I don't care. If only for a couple of hours, they were beautiful and they were ours.

Possibly Chyna. Maybe Asia. I don't think it's Mongolia.

She and I could be cousins, really.

Me bitching about the need for instant tanning booths in fine drinking establishments.

I love how, even if she looks like she's not really feeling his aggressive energy, Nacho takes charge and moves right in...

And see? It paid off! Look how happy they look together.

Give it up for tha Westside, Woo Woo!

Homie is fully trying to squeeze in on our action here. But he was cool, so we were down to share our bounty.

I bet her that she couldn't push the wall over while wearing flip flops.

The girls all told us that they had "stuff to do," so Nacho and I went to the Yukon Mining Company for breakfast and a chance to talk about our successful night with the ladies. Per usual, there was a West Hollywood Police Car cruising the parking lot of the restaurant. (It's a popular area for tranny hookers.) Cops don't like having their picture taken so much but I think there's something fishy going on here. First of all, I don't think she's asking for directions and second of all, I think this woman is hiding something....

Nacho ate 1/2 of a pancake, slid his plate aside, and was down for the count.

Next week, he and I are going Miniature Golfing with a Christian youth group.

Dino Dinco
Los Angeles