Sunday's drive up your blog… with Ramblin' Rooster

The official blog of

Oh Yes It’s Ladies Night

with 18 comments

I thought we had progressed as a society. I was under the impression that all of our personal demons had been laid upon the table for all to see and with the gift of cable television we had all become desensitized to the skeletons that once danced in our closets.


This is all in reference to the fact that gay men are still playing games and dabbling in the arts of secrecy and misconception. Confused? Me too, so let’s start over.


As a rooster I’m always on the prowl for lady companionship. Nothing is more fun to me than standing in a meat market, (or local bar as they’re called) swimming in second hand smoke and scoping the room for drunken maidens. I enjoy shelling out hundreds of dollars on watered-down well drinks, sending three or four at a time via the waitress who hates me to potential “friends”. It’s near impossible to find an atmosphere so perfect consisting of loud music in which a romantic background can be set for screaming sweet nothing into a perfumed stranger’s ear, trying to convince her of how amazing you are in one conversation.


So you could see how eager and excited I’d be to hear ‘Club Spread’ advertising about “Ladies Night” on the radio. I took note of the fact it was this very evening and went home to “get ready”.


When I arrived, I crossed the threshold, shower smooth, wearing new clothes and cologne that would make a nun’s toes curl. My hair was perfect and I had a fresh roll of Mentos. It was on! Once inside the club I made my way to the bar, ordered my fancy drink, a “Phat Dong”, (whiskey, cranberry juice, vodka and milk garnished with an orange slice) and turned a 180 with disco precision to fall back, elbows on the bar. I call it my “girl watching” stance.


Much to my surprise it was in vain. Perusing the dance floor, the bathrooms, the table section and the bar all I saw was dudes! WTF?!? Where are all the chicks man? This is supposed to be ladies night; they get in free for crying out loud!


I waited around for six hours and not one chick ever showed up, expect some meth skank attached to her boyfriend that looked like it could been her brother. It was then that I knew that this was all a scam. Ladies night is code for man-love action. This is how all the gay men can find each other. Why else would ‘Wham’ be playing on the jukebox? Talk about disappointment, but at least now I know the truth. Gay men love ladies night!


I finally went home and watched Univision.


Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster


Written by Ramblin' Rooster

June 8, 2009 at 5:15 am

18 Responses

Subscribe to comments with RSS.

  1. I always thought that gay men were pretty funny and entertaining to drink with. I never understood how they can always be so upbeat and happy; it must have something to do with the space time continuum and random sex. Still it’s more comfortable when they are in your element not the other way around.
    I don’t get why there were no ladies tho, usually the ladies love gay men, and the ladies who love gay men are usually hot as hell! Did it turn out to be a gay bar? Did you wear your favorite ass chaps?-just kidding!
    More perplexing than the lack of ladies on ladies night is your drink! You’ve got to be kidding! That thing sounds like a more sure fire vomit inducer than ipecac. Then again, I spent the last couple years drinking only beer, wine or vodka. Originally I said I’d take a year off, but considering the current state of ladies night and popular drinks, I know now that I should just stay retired!

    Scott Oglesby

    June 8, 2009 at 7:36 am

    • Scott Oglesby, I’m not sure if it was a gay bar or not. I did sport my ass-less chaps, like I do every night! The Phat Dong is actually quite delicious, (once you get over the vomiting).

      Ramblin' Rooster

      June 9, 2009 at 3:11 am

      • Ass-LESS chaps, not ass chaps, thank god you knew what I meant! I got foiled again by the damn no editing of comments policy! Damn fascists!

        Scott Oglesby

        June 9, 2009 at 7:26 am

        • Scott Oglesby, I thought you did mean ass chaps and figured it was some weird Spanish-fetish, strap on thing you were experimenting with. I don’t judge. If there’s one thing fascists hate, it’s editing. That’s why they never got/get anything right.

          Ramblin' Rooster

          June 9, 2009 at 10:08 pm

  2. I thought Phat Dong was an Asian porno star…


    June 8, 2009 at 8:08 pm

  3. I don’t even know where to start. Assless chaps, ladies night where it’s only men, A rooster always on the prowl, Phat dong…

    and then you hung around for 6 hours.


    Claire Collins

    June 9, 2009 at 3:38 am

  4. Yes, I’d like one very much. Thanks. Is the vomiting required?

    Claire Collins

    June 9, 2009 at 4:36 am

    • Claire Collins, get the lady a drink, pronto! Vomiting is not required, but it is quite probable. Although any real whiskey gut could handle a Phat Dong no problem.

      Ramblin' Rooster

      June 9, 2009 at 9:50 pm

      • Momma always warned me about men who want to buy me drinks. They only want one thing.

        She never said a thing about Roosters.

        Claire Collins

        June 10, 2009 at 2:15 am

        • Claire Collins, so no worries, ‘cause what momma doesn’t say, can’t hurt you, (or something like that). What’s the worst that can happen, I peck your eyes out?

          Ramblin' Rooster

          June 10, 2009 at 3:32 am

          • That would actually be pretty bad. I’m kind of partial to my eyes. Now I’m going to develop a roosterphobia

            Claire Collins

            June 10, 2009 at 4:19 am

            • Claire Collins, now you’re starting to see, (well you use to be able to see anyway) the evil in “evil twin”.

              Ramblin' Rooster

              June 10, 2009 at 4:34 am

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: