Looking Around This Bar, I'd Seriously Consider Hooking Up With At Least One-Third Of The Patrons

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We've got some good-looking dudes in here is all I'm saying. Seriously, all of these guys are at least a 7. It's making my head spin! Is this how men feel when they go to Hooters? Because this bar is like a Hooters for girls who like boys that own Rushmore on DVD.

By the pool table alone, I count five contenders. Two of them have cool jeans, one guy has a cool hat, one guy has cool glasses and one guy has a cool shirt. From where I'm sitting (on a barstool roughly ten feet away) any of these guys could potentially emerge as a person of interest.

Shit, the guy with the moustache sitting next to me is looking good too. Really, any of these guys would do. It feels like a candy store in here and I'm about to pick-a-mix these fuckers. I can't even decide who I want to eyebang. It's madness!

(This post is dedicated to Cole's, my new favorite dive bar in Chicago where--no joke--every guy was super hot. They should just rename the place Fiancee's because I wanted to marry almost every guy I saw. It was like a short guy convention in there. I briefly considered ripping my e-ticket in half, staying in Chi-town and taking up residence under a corner table while I rotate several husbands like a reverse Big Love.)