Rossi's Bar and Grill
2110 Whitehorse Mercerville Road
Hamilton, NJ 08619
609/ 890-2004
rossibarandgrill.com
This hip new gastroenteritis pub is a favored Thursday night hangout of recovering metrosexuals, people with excessive ear hair, Pokemon club officers, and nipple aficionados. It features Yell at the Customer night, instrumental karaoke, and wet t-shirt @ss-offs.
Day 2 Stats -- The Mosso Effect Lingers
When Michelle arrives she announces that she has been instructed to document the event for Russ since he is in Colorado, so she immediately begins snapping pics and sending texts. Apparently Russ hinted at a tale from years past that took place at LEB. So Michelle urges Eman to tell the story of Mike the Homicidal Maniac (MtHM). Eman says, "I can’t do it. It’s just too much for me to relive... just thinking about it now and I can feel those scaly reptilian hands -- I just can’t do it!" After an hour of further prodding, Eman relents and agrees to share the story but only after a couple of shots of Jack Daniels…
"The year was 2011, it was Day 5 of the TDDoC, the bar was LEB, the TDDoCer’s were enjoying a festive start to the celebration, all was good with the world. Eman, ever the TDDoC ambassador, introduces himself to another bar patron and greets him with a handshake, but little did he know that handshake would forever change the way he thought about human and reptilian relations. As Eman withdrew his hand from the shake, he thought these scaly hands, which were as gritty as extra coarse sandpaper, could only come from an illicit relationship between a human and a reptile. This patron was MtHM, I am getting to the homicidal part.
"I apologize up front because in order to complete this story, I must get graphic. You can imagine that those scaly reptilian hands might come in handy if you need to climb a wall or sand your floors. HOWEVER if you are home alone, all alone… and you can’t get a date to stay because as soon as you touch her she runs out never to return, those scaly hands can be, well an impediment… OK let’s keep it real.. self-gratification ain’t happening with those hands… it just ain’t. And typically that leaves half-men half-reptiles (the politically correct refer to them as humantilians) in a backed-up state and just a little pissed off.
"There is something I should point out here: because of the mixing of warm blooded humans and cold blooded reptiles these humantilians have a low alcohol tolerance. Now, couple that with backed-up and pissed-off, the potential for head explosion is very high. He makes the announcement that no TDDoCer ever wants to hear, “I think I want to kill people." That always puts a damper on the party (you don’t want those scaly hands around your neck -- the brush burns may never heal). So Eman excused himself from MtHM and introduced him to Russ. Russ being experienced with head explosions, met insane with insaner and said, “After you do it we should cut them up and eat them, I have not had human barbeque in days”. After that we never heard from MtHM again."
Michelle’s bidding for Mosso did not stop there. She convinced me that Russ would appreciate a picture of me in some white fluffy
No designated drinker for Rose tonight, she makes an appearance AND suggests an all-white TDDoC night… That would kick ass… imagine everyone showing up for the Princeton Pub Crawl in all white… however, I think those events are typically held in the late summer because less clothing is required… the designee, Shea attended also, she pushed a date off until a later hour so that she could hang with the crew for a bit.
As Lynn and Jim plan their impending nuptials, Sandor offers sage advice: the key to his marriage longevity is his scotch and his wife’s bourbon.
BPW saw the East Coast from the seat of his bike, he rode down to Florida, that is a pretty cool trip.
Ska and I talked about Chris Columbus and his “discovery”, is he a hero, villain or an idiot who fell ass backward into history.
Rebecca, Erin and crew maybe OUT for Friday possible Bordentown Pub Crawl but are feverishly trying to mesh to events.
Mertz sends pics from Baltimore(?) toasting to NJ TDDoCer’s and throwing one or two back.
At one point, three guys walk in and look confused and disoriented as they see the bar packed with customers (at that point, everyone in the bar was from TDDoC). The initial assumption was that they were just really ticked that this crowd was here taking THEIR bar stools. Michelle talked to them for a while and it became clear that they actually had showed up to rob the place. Instead, they simply decided to have a couple of beers and rob it some other night.
Update on the men's room paper towel situation: The paper towel holder has been replaced with a electric air dryer. No more issues with wet hands! Wait, there may be an issue with the wiring or the power grid. The bathroom lights get noticeably dimmer when the dryer is on, and then brighten again after it shuts off. Maybe that's why the jukebox wasn't playing. In another bold move, the wheeled yellow bucket containing a mop and dark gray "water" that it always stored in the men's bathroom had apparently gone through its decennial emptying and now contains only mildly gray water. The mop is also new.
There was also some mention of a "strip pool" game having been played. Information on who, when, and the results is being stored by Edward Snowden.
At the end of the night, when Ska and I considered another round, Tamp, always the voice of reason, convinced us that it is only Day 2… a good pace is a good thing
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