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8:07 a.m. - 2004-04-21

HOW TO PICK UP WOMEN -- BUBBA STYLE

Had a great night at the club last night.

You know ... for a Tuesday anyway.

I was supposed to stop playing at midnight, but we still had about 70 people in the club so I asked them if they wanted me to keep playing.

They did.

I told them they each had to give a dollar to the bartender before I played any more music.

They gleefully all gave up a buck for another hour of music.

The bartender gave me a kiss at the end of the night and thanked me for doing that, saying she had her best night in months last night.

I like doing things like that.


We had one guy ... ohmigod ... I wish I had a video camera last night.

His name was really Bubba. He was about 5'4" tall, maybe 120 lbs. and a dyed-in-the-wool redneck.

He was playing pool and lost a bet ... meaning he had to sing Karaoke.

He was nervous as hell when this happened and kept telling me he'd never sang "Kokie" before.

I promised him he'd do good and asked him what he wanted to sing.

"You got George Jones' 'He Stopped Loving Her Today'?" he asked.

It's the redneck national anthem. Well ... that and "Free Bird".

I put the disc in and pointed him towards the microphone on the stage.

He took that microphone ... and fucking massacred the shit out of that song.

Holy hell.

It was the funniest thing you will ever hear.

At first, he was just mumbling the lyrics and to me, it sounded like he was just talking.

Bubba was singing an entirely different song. I have no idea what it was, but it sure wasn't George Jones.

So I decided to help him out a bit on my microphone and sang a few of the lines with him to get him back on track.

That helped him a bit.

But he kept singing "He stopped loving ME today" over and over again, like a jilted drunken gay redneck.

Y'all.

I have NEVER laughed so hard in my life.

It quickly dawned on me that Bubba couldn't read.

Here's a piece of advice for you rednecks out there that can't read and have somebody reading my diary aloud to you right now ... don't ever get involved in a bet at the pool table that will result in you being forced to read from a TV monitor in front of a crowd of people.

When the song finally crashed to an end, I demanded that the people in the bar give Bubba a huge round of applause as he had just given up his "Kokie" virginity.

And the crowd responded accordingly.

Thus ... creating an illiterate monster in Bubba.

From that point on, Bubba wanted to do more "kokie".

He butchered all the country classics. Conway Twitty. Johnny Cash. He even destroyed "Sweet Home Alabama" so that none of us who witnessed it will ever hear that song the same way again.

Apparently the concept of actually singing the lyrics to the songs escaped Bubba.

His version of "Kokie" revolved around taking the microphone, staring at the floor and mumbling about how much he hated his ex-wife and then belting out the chorus to the song in a drunken slur at the most inopportune times.

This guy made William Hung look like Luciano Pavarotti.

Bubba's friends were egging him on the whole time, getting a laugh at their buddy's expense. And Bubba was soaking it all up.

At one point, we had this bartender from another bar in town come in and sit at the bar. She's a petite, yet curvy attractive Filipino woman.

Bubba decided that he was going to serenade this woman and win her heart with his unique vocal stylings.

Bubba requested Elvis' "Can't Help Falling In Love With You".

And, as was Bubba's signature, he bitched about his ex-wife and how she drove him to drinking rather than singing the lyrics.

I'm no lady.

But if a guy in a bar did that to woo me?

Bitch ... I would be ALL OVER that shit!

Bubba took a break from singing so I put on some hip hip music to get the crowd dancing.

The curvy bartender hit the dance floor by herself to shake her ass.

Bubba saw this as the opportunity of a lifetime.

He stumbled over to her on the dance floor and did a dance that looked like he was carefully trying to avoid having a metal spike in his underwear from piercing his rectum.

June, the bartender, was amused and danced with him.

Then Bubba decided that if he was going to woo this woman, it might be best if he started groping her breasts on the dance floor.

Because, as we all know, hot women love to have their boobs crushed by drunken rednecks in public.

However, June wasn't really up for the whole latching-on-to-the-hooters thing and kept politely backing up from his outreached claws.

Bubba tried desperately to follow her, but the combination of the mirror ball and the swirling lights on the dance floor proved to be his enemy and not his ally and he eventually fell flat on his face in his quest to tug nipple.

I howled with laughter.

I mean ... I sounded like a wolf. It was the funniest thing ever.

It took Bubba about a minute to get back to his feet and he was soooo cool that he played it off perfectly. Like he meant to eat the dance floor at that particular moment.

I got on the mic and asked Bubba what he called that move.

He grinned and shrugged his shoulders.

I suggested he dub it "Timberrrrrr!"

He kept pursuing June who was politely rebuking him so I finally walked over and told Bubba that June was my wife and for him to keep his hands to himself.

He apologized profusely and worked hard to convince me that he was just a good ol' boy trying to have fun.

I told him he was a great guy and all, but just don't grope my "wife".

He finally left about 1:20 in the morning with his friends and designated driver.

Luckily for him there were several chairs near the path to the door because he had to hold on to the backs of the chairs in order to assist himself in exiting the building.

God bless ya, Bubba.

You made my night.

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