mang’s day out...
april 23.05

The slime show ended at 2:00 am at the Earl of Whitchurch and then we all partied back at the Slime World Headquarters till 4:30... Mike dragged his lazy ass out of the sack around noon and quietly tip-toed into the official Slime wardrobe room... he wormed his way over to the closet just past the wall of Diva uniforms and grabbed a pair of Grant’s cozy plaid flannel pj bottoms... with an almost man like tug he pulled them over his well packed boxers....

It was now way past 12:30pm as he pranced like the delicate son-of-a-bitch that he is and made a loving entrance to the troupe of faithful hot wanting women who had been in the slime holding pen... he dove over the boardroom table and landed in the desirable laps of JoJo, Jen and Sheryl and squeezed what ever he could get his hands on...

“What’s the plan?” queried a comfortable Mang...
“One goal... make it out for dinner within six hours...” giggled the bodacious divas.

“I’m in... but I’m not changing...” frumped a stubborn Mang.

“I got fish to fry in my sleek blue 2 seater sports-rod... see you dogs at next practice...” quipped up the testosterone charged Mad Dog, as he charged out the door lacing his tight fitting driving gloves...

“You’re going out in Grant’s pajama’s?” quizzed a perplexed Stevie from across the room.

“No... he needs to be dressed in true Slime fashion!” barked Grant as he tossed Mang his Luxurious Hotel White Terry Robe, freshly stolen from the last world tour...

“Perfect” shouted Mang as slipped into the deep plush fabric of royalty...
.

“You’ve got to be joking, no Mang of mine is going to dinner in his bass players’ sleeping garments!” snapped Mang’s vixen...
So after six hours of mind-numbing satellite signals, the remaining Slimes entered through the automatic doors of the Stouffville Swiss Chalet... Mang in the white house robe with a bright yellow Lance bracelet blazing on his wrist was cause for concern... His unshaven and chilling patented “day-after-da-gig” look put terror into the youthful face of the lovely greeter...

“Table for 5?”, she asked in a puzzled way...

“Yes please, but we only have him out for an hour...” answered the stunning JoJo.

Within minutes the friendly staff had whisked the slimes to a middle table and were making sure that they could get the chicken to the table before we had to take the strange delirious Mang in his pajamas back to the psycho bin at Markham-Stouffville hospital...

As the waitress took photos to help us remember this joyous occasion, the hostess sat a table of 8 blue haired sweethearts just behind the man in the white robe. Within a minute of hostile stares and muttered comments, the wrinkled ring leader of the table of 8 charged to the front desk and then proceeded to have her party moved to the other end of the restaurant...
We had our desert and laughed all the way through the video store as we retreated back to the safety of our surround sound video world...

Mang and Jen finally left Slime headquarters at 1:30 am in Grant’s pajama bottoms... which he did return clean at the next practice...