the other night i allowed a sweet bethesda something to lure me back to her humble abode- reverse seduction, i always call it.  once the ladies see my moves, they feel like they're under pressure to put it all on the line and try to tame my rebellious rock n' roll spirit. back at her place we put on a hit movie and settled down on the bed. she clearly wanted a piece of the action, as i call it, but i was busy getting texts from my bro, dave grohl!

after my hostess experienced a bout of extreme frustration and fell asleep, i was free to text away with that crazy dude. "Iv got nothA confesion 2 mke," he said. LOL! foo fighters texts! "S sum1 getN da best of u?" i asked in reply. his response was there almost instantly: "i dnt wan2B yr monkE wrench." LMAO, things were getting zany! i gathered my text-fu skills and crafted my reply:

"I 1dr wen I sing along w/u
f evryting cUd evr feel dis real 4ever
f NEfin cUd evr B dis gud agn"

i stayed up all night texting grohl. the next morning the girl woke up and wanted to know why i was still in her house. whatever, lame-oid! i've got texts to send. catch you on the flip side, YWIUTG (You Who Is Unknown To Grohl)! owned!

i was in trouble, and i surely knew it. in the midst of my drunken wanderings i had somehow strayed far from the borders of bethesda, into lands i didn't recognize. at first i thought i had walked all the way into adams morgan- an acceptable, if disappointing, substitute for b-thizzle. but as the sun rose i saw that i had arrived somewhere far more sinister: rockville.

rockville. a tiny hamlet mainly populated by wind and ghosts, amongst other more disturbing creatures. as i tried to recover from the shock of finding myself in such a place i realized i was being watched. hideous wretches, the gaunt and wasted figures of people exiled from bethesda and sent north to the frozen wasteland of rockville. if your attitude lacked sufficient zazz, if your character was judged to be irredeemably lame, if your charmingly anachronistic hats ever passed from 'edgy' to 'boring'... then you could be forsaken by the bethesdans and sent away, never to return. rockville.

clearly my arrival here was a mistake. but before i could find a way out they rushed at me, howling "YOUR SCARF! WE NEED YOUR SCARF!" with their disgusting, deformed tongues. their plan was clear: take my scarf, impersonate me at the bethesda border, and thus regain access to the hottest scene this side of rock n' roll valhalla. as i ran my scarf trailed far behind me- their grubby fingers snatched at it in the wind, mere inches from claiming it as their own.

and then i gave up on all hope. one of them stood straight in front of me, blocking my path to freedom. but wait... this was no twisted rockville denizen! he stood well taller than any of them, with pounds of facial hair and a bulky wristwatch that accentuated his drummer physique. i was saved! grammy award-winning all-star rock god dave grohl himself clenched his fingers oddly towards them, a vision of 100% radical defiance!

i won't get into too much detail about what happened next, but lets just say it was a grohling trial for them! heh, just a little pun there, based on conflating the sounds of the word 'grueling' with the name of my best bro- dave goddamn grohl! after we finished our sexy battle royale it was time to head back to bethesda and do a bit of mid-day drinking. it's never too early to start when you rock as hard as we do!

So I’ll bet you’re wondering what is going on in B-Thez with the Grohlmeister. Maybe you thought all the fun was over? Maybe you thought that me ‘n Grohl were no longer best bros? Or maybe you thought we went to a dance party and were mistaken for a couple and could no longer be friends due to the overwhelming awkwardness? WELL GUESS WHAT? YOU WERE WRONG! YEAH!

X-Mas was pretty much the greatest day of my life. I was hangin’ out as usual in my room (the same one I’ve inhabited since I was an infant), and you know, just doin’ the usual, rockin’ out, jammin’…etc, when Grohl’s face appeared in my window. I don’t know if you’ve ever had a Grohl in your window, but it’s seriously way better than Santa (who sucks most years and never eats the cookies I leave out for him after baking for 2 days straight). So yeah, Grohl says we should go down to the downtown Woodmont Triangle area of Bethesda (W-cubed as we B-Thezdans call it). I jumped into action – quickly adorned myself with some glittery scarves, a fedora, and my fave women’s skinny jeans – and off we went to wreak some SERIOUS X-MAS HAVOC!!!!

When we arrived at W-cubed, we were disappointed to find nothing but a small squirrel sitting on a bench, along with a pickle salesman and his barrel of pickles. Grohl seemed pissed. So pissed that I thought he might lose his X-Mas cheer. But he quickly pulled himself together and said these exact words to me: “Bro, I don’t see a party here, so you know what that means.” Before he even finished the sentence, I had assembled my small battery-powered Fender amp on the sidewalk and within seconds, we were pumpin’ out the jams!!!! We hit it off with a little Paul McCartney (MA-CA….as we call him), then moved on to some GUNS!!!!

We didn’t really draw a crowd – the squirrel quickly ran away, along with the pickle man and some elderly couples out for a holiday walk. But hell, sometimes me n’ Grohl just gotta jam for jammin’s sake….

some people call grohl and i "the duo that never sleeps." sure feels like it! earlier this week d-gro himself showed up on my doorstep looking to cause trouble, hunting for fun in all the right places. the dude wanted to go on an adventure- who was i to say no?! we hopped in my car, or THE ROCK MOBILE, and sped off to the most unexpected of places- THE BEACH! rad!

the wind sure was cold, and a quick dip in the water left me with severe hypothermia, but i wasn't about to let the mere absence of heat slow me down! grohls delightful antics warmed my heart as well as my frozen limbs. first he made a sand castle, then he pretended to be an obnoxious kid and knocked it over. that grohl, what an imagination he has- the mind of grohl, a wondrous thing.

later we were back on the boardwalk warming up with some of the famous BOARDWALK FRIES! grohl went crazy, pigging out hardcore! i was laughing at first but then he got bits of hot french fry grease in my left eye and i had to take a few minutes to wash it out. my vision is still slightly off in that eye but whatever bro, that's what you get when you live on the edge!

we hit a few of the local bars before we left to see if we could drum up some karaoke action, but those nerds were having none of it! whatevs, bethesda awaits! grohlfriend out!

I JUST HAD THE CRAZIEST GROHL DREAM!  grohl and i were having a long therapy sesh talking about some of my usual lady troubles when barack obama showed up.  grohl didnt recognize obama (we've been waaay too busy palling around to really follow politics lately) but i figured out who he was pretty quickly.  anyway obama told us that the earth is in trouble!  i grabbed my best adventure-scarf and we leaped into action.  the president explained that he was tired of being president and wanted to step down.  but if he did, a bunch of uncool things would happen!  biden would take over, and no one wants that since biden kinda sucks.

so his only recourse was to send grohl back in time, to the year 2008! grohl would run for president and win, thus allowing obama to get some rest and preventing biden from taking office. i thought i might have been a better choice for prez but grohl explained that being the vice president and just sitting around drunk all day is way better than taking the lead role. hes such a smart dude!

we won the election, of course. mccain is basically a mummy and sarah palin doesn't know the meaning of being 'under pressure,' if you catch my drift! hahaha! speaking of which, instead of swearing in president grohl on a lame old bible i totally ROCKED him in by breaking out a bit of the karaoke Queen (feat. david bowie) during the inauguration. the supreme court justices didnt approve but whatever duders, they're way old.

we moved the white house to the B-THEZ, replaced the oval office desk with a drum kit, and changed press conferences to free-form drunken singalongs- i do it my way, PUN TOTALLY INTENDED.

when i finally woke up i felt a soul-crushing sadness on the realization that it had all been a dream. or was it? as i stood up something fell out of my pocket: a ballot, worn out from too much time spent as a coaster under a cold brewski and too many trips through the washing machine. the front held two boxes: an empty one next to McCain/Palin, and a punched hole next to Grohl/Yours Truly.

time finally caught up with it once it was exposed to the harsh conditions outside my pocket, though. when i tried showing it to a hot bethesda twenty-something that night i found that nothing remained in my pocket but dust. we'll meet again, dear president grohl, though i know not how or when.

winter. the air is crisp, the temperatures frosty, the alcohol sweet. night after night dave and i hit the karaoke joints, blasting the panties right off in a super-masculine assault on their sensual ears.  it isn't all testosterone when i'm up there, though- my custom-made scarf-belt combines the utility of a belt (pure man stuff) with the aesthetic wonders of a scarf (a little something for the ladies).  after every song i take a few minutes to work the crowd, making my way through with my favorite piece of arm candy- mr grohl himself.  sometimes we go straight through to dawn, sipping sweet brewskis and hitting all the right notes.

last night (or perhaps I should say 'this morning'? sorry i don't conform to your 24-hour day chronofascism, you square) was magical. after the sun rose i stumbled out the back door of one of bethesdas hottest spots to find dave takin' a quick smoke in the alley. he was an oasis of cool in the midst of what was otherwise a very filthy place. a thick trash funk enveloped the area from a dumpster which looked like it hadn't been emptied since the early 90s (when dave was getting his start in a little band i like to call nirvana), and roaches crawled along the edge of the wall. i realized that the puddle i was standing in was not, in fact, rainwater- rather, it had the color and smell of urine.

'dave, man, what are you doing back here?'

before he could answer the sun finally glinted over the top of the fence. i blinked and shielded my eyes for a moment, but when i lowered my hand i found that dave had disappeared. a pile of discarded newspapers and three pieces of cracked eggshell sat in his place, a forlorn monument to my vanished friend.

thanksgiving weekend was an even realer treat! i was hangin out with dave, as i am wont to do, when the mayor of bethesda descended from upon high and graced us with an audience! it was super cool. clearly he wanted to acknowledge the huge role dave and i have played in developing bethesda. all those huge crowds that come out on weekday nights to hear me belt out some classics in the bethesda bar district? that's a huge cultural milestone and a great boon to the developing bar industry. we're basically stars in this town.

at the end of our talks with the mayor he dropped a sexy bomb on us- he wanted us to accept the key to the city! there would be a huge ceremony with literally dozens of people in attendance! dave freaked out but i totally kept my cool. "that's why you're the mayor," i said whilst putting on my sunglasses and flipping my scarf over my shoulder.

the ceremony was great! lots of hot chickadoodles checkin' me out while dave went up on stage and an overweight woman stared at his back. i would have loved to let some of the hotties hit on me, but i never fly without my wingman- former nirvana drummer and foo fighters frontman, dave grohl.

So this week I had a real treat. As a Washington, D.C. native, I thought it was my duty to show Dave around….even though I heard that he’s actually from this area too, but whatever. Well, after rocking out hardcore last night at Barking Dog (that’s where the Bethesda rockin’ karaoke madness is located on Thursday nights), I figured we should take a break and see some of the nation’s most valued treasures. AKA…HARD ROCK CAFÉ!!!! AM I RIGHT??? So yeah, I explained to Dave (who’s not very attuned to these things), that Washington D.C. is basically Las Vegas…just without any gambling, deserts, breakfast buffets, or obese Elvis impersonators. He was so excited to hear this! We’re both huge fans of rockin’ out hardcore in Las Vegas with some hot chickies and some tasty lemon drop cocktails!!!! It’s no Bethesda, but hey, it tries! Here is the proof that we went to the Hard Rock Café (we hung out with Bon Jovi too but don’t ask him about this if you see him):