Andria: Here is a flower, the symbol of love, of peace, of...wait! This thing is fake! This is a symbol of how cheap that mariachi band was. And they had my love *sniff*.
Alex has showing random strangers hand games from elementary school. You know, in case they skipped that part of life and went straight on to college.
This gesture somehow evoked Bon Jovi, or summoned Lucifer, or something. Whatever it was, I think Alex held on to that guy's hand just a few seconds too long.
Having had enough of dive bars, we headed out to the next logical place for our fiesta filled evening: the bowling alley.
Jen was used to Alex's antics, but the full body checking he was administering to each bar patron may be taken the wrong way by some.
Alex: Oh, was that my hand? Sorry. I thought I was pinching my own ass. You understand.
Alex: 8-ball, corner pocket. Cue ball, side pocket. Wow, this makes me want to play some pocket pool, if you know what i mean. Eh, eh?!
The confetti egg business seemed innocent enough; until we noticed the phrase 'You have the ebola virus! Go to your egg vendor for the cure.' written on each tiny piece of confetti.
Paka: Yeah doc, my friend just swallowed another confetti egg. Can I put you on with her so you can tell her they aren't edible?
It turns out that, much like chickens, eggs cannot fly, no matter how hard you throw them upwards.