I know all the focus right now is on, Hurricane Katrina, but I wanted to take a few minutes to discuss another serious storm here in the United States. And that's the storm of methamphetamines (aka METH) that's being smuggled into this country from Mexico. I like to call this problem, Hurricane Juan. You see, Hurricane Juan is a Class 5 Jackass, that has no respect for himself, or anyone else for that matter. He couldn't care less about our laws, or the thousands of people who work hard to keep our fair nation, drug free.
As you can see from the HasserVision Weather Radar Map, Hurricane Juan is on a nonstop path to Portland.


Every week, he leaves his small home in Chihuahua, in his orange 1974 Ford F100, and drives through California, parts of Nevada, and into Oregon. With him, Juan brings a shitload of the finest Meth money can buy. And from what I hear, $5 will get you pretty far. We're talking about being awake until 2006. Anyway, my point here is, we need to focus on Hurricane Juan, before he wipes out our youth, and uh... umm... the trailer park folks who used to do just fine being high on weed, until their Uncle Leonard sprinkled a little crank into their bong, and they were hooked faster than Britney Spears's career exploded into a flaming ball of knocked up white trash Federline cocktail lunacy. These are the people that run around at all hours of the night stealing cars, steel construction beams, bridge guardrails, little Jimmy's braces (he thought it was the Tooth Faery out for a dental vendetta), and even their grandmother's cane, so they can make quick cash for their quick fix.
So where was I? Oh yeah... watch out for Hurricane Juan and his orange Ford F100. If you get caught in their path, you're screwed!

There's a lot of talk about how drinking leads to bad things. Drunk-driving accidents, fights, unwanted pregnancies, marriage. And as bad as some of those things are, I know if it weren't for drinking, (not that I'm an alcoholic or anything. cough.) I wouldn't have met the crazy people I've met throughout the years. Don't get my wrong. I'm not talking about my crazy good friends like Robot. I'm talking about those crazy people I really have nothing in common with, except for the facts we're in the same bar, and we're drunk. Those are the social experiences I treasure. Of course, some of them I can't remember so well, but I cherish the fact they happened nonetheless. I wish I had a photograph of every encounter.
Then again, maybe I don't wish that.
While perusing some of my photographs, I discovered some pictures I don't remember taking, or taking part in. I thought I'd share a few here, as a visual example of the people I meet when I'm drunk.



We recently visited my favorite drinking hole/karaoke joint, The Ambassador.
Apparently I met this nice lady sometime during the night.
I don't remember, but someone was nice enough to take a photo for me to relive this encounter.



This poor girl. No telling what I'm talking about.
But according to my friends, we were having a seriously deep conversation.
Of course, she really had no choice.
I had her blocked in a corner!! Nice move Hasser!!



Yet another girl I apparently met.
I can't imagine what the hell we were talking about.
Maybe we were discussing the complexity of the series of star tattoos on her chest...



Here are a couple of ladies I've met in the past at The Ambassador on several occasions.
I can't tell you who they are, or what they do.
But my friends say I'm usually fairly chummy with them.



This is Crazy Katie from The Ambassador.
Her sister, Amelia, is in the background of the picture, and is the best bartender ever.
She has a mean pour, which results in my Scotch-induced states of mind.
Anyways, Katie always says hi and talks about lots of stuff.
I couldn't tell you what exactly that stuff is, thanks in part to her sister's drinks.
And trust me, that's a good thing.



This is my friend Kristen. Or is it Kristin?
I can't remember, because when I usually see her, I'm well on my way to Drunktopia.
And as you can see, she has a low tolerance for my drunken conversations and photographing people.



I'm not the only person out there meeting interesting people while drunk.
Here's by buddy Angelo and a bar friend he met when we visited his hometown of Reno.



Here are a couple of Angelo's friends chatting up a nice lady they met in the same bar.
Of course, there's only one of her, and two of them.



But she didn't seem to mind.
Ahhh, the joys of alcohol.