Barefoot Contessa

Jordan and Jackie were up for a night with the boys so they grabbed their gays and headed out on the town. Johnny and The Contessa were a couple of fierce bitches, I mean shit gurl, we don't even call The Contessa by his real name he just has a title THAT's how fucking fierce he is (he also makes a mean truffle demi-glaze). They hit WeHo as per usz, this time exploring the many lovely qualities Motherload bar has to offer. If you're not familiar, think Claim Jumper, but with capris. The 1890 themed bar made Jordan realize that the gays really do have more of an appreciation for history, architecture, art, etc than the rest of society; that was until she spotted two guys going at it up against the faux gold mine in the back to the smooth rhythms of a Hot n' Cold remix. At that point she was quickly jolted back to reality (she will never think of gold pans the same way again).
Anyway, back at the ranch, they moseyed on up to the bar and when Jackie spotted the Goose it was over. Girl got faded in about 2.2 and quickly made friends with a nice shirtless fella as she danced atop the pool table. Johnny would soon join her up there and become one of the shirtless himself. Homeboy used to be a little chunky and has recently developed a slimmed-down, sculpted bod that he can't help but flaunt any chance he gets. The major drama continued when we turned and saw The Contessa's 40+ year old sugar daddy enter the bar. The Contessa had attempted to ditch him that night, ignoring his phone calls and texts, but apparently that pig can sniff out The Contessa's truffle scent from a mile away. A major fight ensued and soon the kid gloves came off. Sugar daddy insulted The Contessa's cooking abilities *oh-no-he-di'int-face*and Contessa not so kindly pointed out how sugar daddy's penchant for diamond encrusted Ed Hardy wear was so last year and way too Jon Gosselin for his taste. After all The Contessa's name was not Kate and in no situation was he allowed (either by science or his personal trainer) to give birth to his own personal basketball team worth of children. The argument got heated - sugar daddy stole The Contessa's shoe and in return, he threw the key to his Prius back in sugar daddy's face; it was after this exchange that a tranny, dressed as a saloon girl, stepped in to break things up. The Contessa's sugar daddy was escorted out and we continued doing what we do - even one shoe down. With the mention of last call we headed down for a quick stop at after hours at Club Pavil (Pavillions grocery to all you laymen). Their late night munchies collection is to die for. After our fill of Club Pavil we walked our fabulous asses back up Santa Monica boulevard towards Johnny' place. Just another typical night in WeHo.