…Was His Name-O

Yeah, that’s right.  I played fucking Bingo last night.  I hadn’t played bingo since I was maybe 10 years old and with my grandma in the Poconos, so I was a little out of practice.  Luckily, bingo is %100 luck, so not playing in a long time didn’t hurt me.  My terrible luck did.

One thing about this form of bingo.  It was not your grandparent’s bingo.

Okay, it was exactly the same game so i guess it was your grandparent’s bingo.  The thing is, I’m pretty sure when your grandparents win bingo they don’t reach into a large bag of pornography and pick one out at random. As I mentioned before, my extremely low tolerance for luck prevented me from winning any of the terrible porn.  Which actually may have been luckier.  My friend won a game, reached in the bag, and pulled out a midget porn.  There are somethings you can’t unsee, the case for a midget porn is one of them (your humble blogger silently weeps)

The last game of the night however, the winners win a free bar tab.  It was 1am, we were getting ready for bingo to end and stumble home.  And then my friend won the free bar tab.  Naturally, rather than save the 20 dollars for another night, it was decided that a full round of PBR was on him.  Apparently we had been teetering on the edge of reason, and this round pushed us over.  So now, without further ado:

Apparently, Bingo + Porn + utter lack of responsibility = hangover.

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4 Responses to “…Was His Name-O”

  1. I once played Bingo and won a few dollars… back then I’d have preferred the porn. Awesome.

  2. i actually quite liked bingo – if you take away the stress factor it’s actually kinda fun . . .

  3. Playing bingo for born and beer? niiiiiiiiice. Though I think you were right to leave grandma out of this game.

  4. I grew up just outside the Poconos, in Scranton, and totally worked at a bingo hall for five years. I bet you’re jealous, huh?

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