You know when you get me, Detroit and brisk winter weather, weird scientific stuff will happen. Add in Tommy Lee and you get weird scientific stuff please a whole lot of strippers who love guys with tattoos.
Now, I was there for the football and without question my boys came through at the end. So not only did I predict that the Steelers are the greatest team in the NFL and why, I predicted they would beat the spread. And I would much rather have hung out with Hank Williams, Jr. and Kid Rock, but Tommy Lee turned out to be a pleasant surprise.
I was never a glam rock guy – I was in ROTC so they wouldn’t let me grow my hair while that sum’bitch Reagan was in The White House. And Heather Locklear was nowhere near as hot as my chick when Heather Locklear was young much less now, so I think I have Tommy Lee beat all the way around. Unless he’s one heck of a scientist. But we stumbled across him at The Flight Club in Detroit and he recognized us because he had been at The Landing Strip too. So he bought us a drink – and since he was paying, I ordered a Macallan 18-year old Scotch, neat with a water back. And drank precisely none of it. But I looked cool holding it. I was tempted to ask about his keen interest in Absinthe and hookers but it was pretty obvious from where we met him that he is a connoisseur of both. Some questions just don’t need to be asked.
So if you were face-to-face with Tommy Lee, what would you ask? About that video with Pamela Anderson? No way. I saw three seconds of that video and said, “These two are in love so that is just wrong to watch.” Because I like my porn to be amongst professionals. Or involving me. Otherwise, I don’t want it at all. Would you ask about the tattoos? I have none and he has a gazillion so that’s one topic I can’t converse about. Well, I wasn’t stumped like you are. I asked him about his canoodling with a transvestite in Toronto.
I says to Tommy, “Tommy, if there’s one thing I know it’s transvestite strippers. As your attorney I would strongly advise that you take me along – for your own protection – next time.”
“Cash, dude,” says Tommy, “You could not have known. That Nina dude was one convincing chick.” And then he thinks about it for a minute. “How the f*** did you hear about that anyway?”
Well, what can I do? Go to a PC and show him my blog? I did happen to have my Dell Axim X51 in my pocket and I could have shown him everything he ever wanted to know about Thai transvestite hookers but I just mumbled something about reading The New York Post. “Yeah, I hate that f***ing rag,” he says.
Suddenly, the phone rings. It’s Lady Scientist. I think I know what this is about. She is not happy about the blog from the bar in Japan. Knowing that, I fail to mention Tommy Lee or the strip club we are in. Oops, no, that is not it. I still leave out the strip club, just in case.
She’s angry about vaginas. Specifically, stories involving vaginas that are not hers.
ME: You didn’t think my remark about the ‘line of women willing to offer me their vaginas is so long it can be viewed from space’ was funny? What about vaginas exploding because I am so hot. Is that funny?
SHE: I don’t think you and vaginas in the same story is funny, no.
ME: Come on. That’s funny stuff.
SHE: It’s actually not that funny.
ME: You’re repressing me.
SHE: I’m informing you.
ME: What about third person jokes involving vaginas?
SHE: Still not funny.
So I tried to disract her with stories about fat French people and a James Bond Director getting busted in drag during a prostitution sting but she was having none of it. Since that didn’t work I offered to buy her a vibrator that plugs into the USB port of a computer. That seemed to settle her down. She’s such a sucker for romantic gifts. Tommy Lee offers to serenade her to smooth things over but given his penchant for creating porn stars out of normal women, I don’t take him up on it. If she’s going to be a porn star, it can only be with me.