Coyote Ugly, Entry Two

Going back to how fine those Chicago women are (with or without those knee-high black boots, of course), where the hell are you men? The bellies here are Tight, Naked, and Tanned -- Making for some explosive T-N-T, if ya know what I mean. *wink*wink* Seriously, you guys are out of your flippin� gourds for not taking the time to catch the el, a bus, or a low-flying kite in this bite-your-ass-cold wind.

Believe me. It�s cold. I too have a naked stomach, sans the tan. Let�s recall that I�ve been working high tech for the past four years before I get anyone questioning the authenticity of my Texas accent, okay?

Here�s the dealio with the audition: Woman stand in line outside of the club and wait for this slimy guy with a New York accent to give access to the bar. Five or ten at a time, the hot mamas enter, fill out an application, and then shake-shake-shake their booties.

Lil Lovell, the brain (and, yes, the hot little body) behind the growing franchise, introduced herself. Perhaps it was my extreme push-up bra. Perhaps it was my rockin� body. Perhaps it was my answer to the application question, �Why do you want to be a Coyote Ugly bartender?� where I said that I wanted free booze. But whatever it was, she gave me a bit of an attitude.

She then played some crap-ass music on a boom box, saying that she was looking for the best dancers. Let me just say that there hasn�t been this much bumping-and-grinding since RKelly took a tour of his old junior high school.

Then the results were announced.

One woman, hoping to rise from adversity, pulling herself from the trailer park life, marrying that sweaty fat man who sits at the bar every Wednesday night wearing his e-Bay-bought gen-U-ine Stetson while asking if we had ever ridden a mechanical bull like Sissy did in that movie, actually cried.

Wus.

Let me rephrase that: Blue mascara wearing wus. Unless BobbifreakingBrown herself told you that was brought back from 1973, I suggest you invest in some Almay Hypoallergenic Eye Makeup Remover Pads and get yourself some plain ol� Revlon.

Damn, I hate when I have to regulate.

So you�re wondering who got the coveted jobs, right?

I don�t know. Ask Bill. I got drunk instead of showing up for the finals.�