On the Scene at the Captain Morgan's All-Star Pose Off

What's a Pose Off you ask? I have no idea. But, given the chance to get my Bill Simmons on and rub elbows with the sluts and pseudo-celebutantes who might attend something called a Pose Off, you best believe I'm taking it.

So, here is the true, if not totally uneventful, story of my on location adventure to the Captain Morgan's All-Star 2008 Pose Off, where Captain Morgan himself served up the finest Captain Morgan and Cokes, Captain Morgan Punch, and Captain Morgan Lemonade money can buy.

I figured I'd just interview myself to provide you all with the full details, because Captain Morgan looked awfully busy with his gay dance moves and all. At first, I thought the Captain pulled tons of chicks and had all these friends, because everyone flocked to him. Upon further review, I realized he is actually a lot like the retarded guy at the high school that everyone likes to high five and shit. Anyway, let's move lets get down to business.

So Rupert, who were you wearing?

I wore some dark green pants that I got from my girlfriend's dad as hand me downs and a pair of J. Crew flip flops. The top? That was a Banana Republic with the sleeves rolled up. I call the look Amagansett Casual. The collar was not popped.

What did you think of Maria Manouoeos or whatever?

She glided through room like a trumpeter swan with a flowing grace and striking glow much like Garth's dream girl from Wayne's World. Also, she has a much more voluptuous ass in real life than I expected. I assumed she would be short and skinny like most famous ladies, but she is quite a sexy dish - more of a skirt steak than a seared tuna.

Where are all of the pictures of the hot ass and famous baseball players?

Um yeah, there are none. The party was on a Sunday night and I actually left to go home at 10:15 pm, because I was itching to see the rest of Vantage Point. So, I actually didn't see many ball players. Also, after two Captain Morgan and Cokes, I was shaking so violently from all the sugar, that my wife had to drag me away. I really didn't get nearly drunk enough to start doing any weird Hunter S. type stuff.

You're a pussy...

So are you.

Fuck you. Any good food in there?

It was alright. Actually, they had some sliders that were deeelish. We're not talking just the meat-bun combo. These succulent little beefburgers piled a full inch thick juicy piece of prime, topped with cheese, pickles, tomatoes, lettuce, ketchup, and mustard. Mmmmm. Other than that, they served some crab cakes that had a "W" on them for some reason and some decent chicken satay. I didn't try the pigs in a blanket, because I have already been to 75 weddings this summer, so I'm burned out there.

That was supposed to be an "M" for Morgan you jackass. So, what did you expect to accomplish by going to this thing?

I actually had the whole thing planned out. I really wanted to devise an expose detailing the types of girls that represents the makings of the MLB groupie. I thought for sure the story was there. Unfortunately, it really didn't pan out. There were a lot of cute girls, but all pretty normal. I was hoping for more of the type of chicks that would double up on a dude like Lawrence. In reality, the makeup was akin to that of your local gym - a few really hot ones, but largely above average-ish.

Did the bathroom have a guy to hold your balls while you take a piss?

Yeah, I gave the guy a dollar. Those guys are the worst, but I feel bad that they just bathe in all those poop particles all day passing out paper towels.

Did David Ortiz get those shoes as a gift from Cousin Eddie?

I wondered that myself.

How did it go getting in the place?

Like this...

Me: Uh hi, I think I'm on the list for a media RSVP.

Three girls at door: Um, we don't open for about ten more minutes.

Me: Right.

Time passes...

Me: Uh hi, I think I'm on the list for a media RSVP.

Three girls scour the list looking for the name.

Three Girls: I don't see you on here. Who invited you?

Me: Um, some PR person. I forget his name.

Three Girls: Are you with the press?

Me: Uhhhhh, I write for some blogs.

Three Girls: Ok, lemme check with my boss.

Out of nowhere, the individual from the PR firm overhears the word "blog" and comes to the rescue.

PR Professional: Oh hey man, what blog?

Me: Uh, it's called the Ghosts of Wayne Fontes.

PR Professional: Oh sweet. It's great to meet you man. Come on in. Hey, lets get these guys some VIP bracelets.

I swear to god, that is verbatim how it went down. Chalk one up for the sports bloggers. I actually found this exchange so entirely bizarre that I actually convinced myself that the only reason I got invited was that the party was gonna be a payback joke on sports bloggers and all the baseball players were gonna seek revenge somehow.

No such luck.

Photo Credit: Marion Curtis/Startraks