I guess I don't really have any monumental new stories to tell, so if this post bores you... hey go screw yourself. That being said... I feel like I haven't really woken up all week. I've basically been sleepwalking through life until today. On Tuesday I was certain that I knew what would solve this problem. Margaritas. Copious amounts of margaritas.
GP and I set out on what I can only refer to as Boozefest 08 (and yes, I did say Tuesday). Before you judge me, bare in mind that all I do on Wednesday mornings is stand on a platform, get eyefucked by a bunch of old men (mullets optional but preferred) and push my boobs together and smile if someone is backing down from a bid (this is much less scandalous than it sounds and no, I do not work in a whorehouse in Singapore.)
Back to the booze.
We swing by Our Next Door Neighbor's apartment, who GP now works with and Nouns knows through an ex. I have had one other actual interaction with Our Next Door Neighbor and it was also the instance when I lost my flip cup virginity and he lost his iPhone. Needless to say, we are old friends now.
The place where we were planning on consuming said margaritas is mostly patio and it was raining. We are serious though, and even when the waiter tries to dissuade us from sitting outside and ordering we demand service then slam the first and demand another. Nouns had been on a date (what a bitch) and when I got a call from her at 9:45 (or as my internal clock read 2 and 1/2 margaritas) I thought... oh this is going to be good hoping for a real date horror story (like last weekend when some guy grabbed a friend of mine in the bar and told her he had "already pooped twice today").
I had been telling Our Next Door Neighbor a story and I mentioned my friend Blond Elementary age School Teacher (Don't let the name fool you, she has loud sex. I've heard it more than once.). I turn to ONDN and I say "Do you know BEAST?" he says yes that he knows her through a former room mate. I don't know this former roomie, but then he drops an intriguing bomb... his other room mate was the first guy I hooked up with after my ex-boyfriend The Grinch stole three years of my life. I also awkwardly stood by and watched this same guy hit on, oh, all of my friends while I giggled endlessly at his desperation. I responded to this information as any normal person would, by pretending that none of this ever happened and I merely met his room mate in passing.
He either fell for it or didn't only the tequila knows. Witty banter ensued and at about 3 margaritas I let the story about the strip club slip. So Our Next Door Neighbor now thinks I am a raving whore (and probably rightly so if you ask anyone but my crotch). To make matters worse I tried to explain to him that I REALLY am not a complete hussy. He tells me he is not the kind of guy that talks about his conquests, so I don't even have anything to hold over his head. Solution: "CARLOS! MAS MARGARITAS"
About this time Nouns shows up with a less than satisfactory explanation of the date. She says it was fine(ish), but there was no booze involved...which would have made me bolt immediately, but lets be honest, I never would have gotten into that situation in the first place (partly because I have never been asked on a date and look up to Cougars as role models and partly because I have this new habit where I walk in to a restaurant, up to the hostess, and say "I'll have a vodka soda" - this is often met with shock and disgust and a little bit of mumbling of..."I, uh, ok, I'll tell your waiter when you are seated in half an hour?")
OH MY GOD - I know this has nothing at all to do with this post, but I just saw a commercial for Step Up 2: The Streets, and I am not a lesbian (unless you ask my mother) but when the main girl does that chest pump move while the main guy holds his hand over her.... wow. Excuse me while I go take a cold shower.
We begin discussing awkward situations. I tell the table that the second most awkward situation I have ever been in was the night in Austin in Our Bar where three guys I had hooked up with in less than 3 months showed up. Two of them hate each other, and the other was Our Next Door Neighbor's ex-roomie. To make things less awkward I decided to apply a little social lubricant and drank more booze than nature should and did allow.
One of the 3 drove me home and as I was trying to throw all of the dirty clothes off of my bed, I preceded to vomit right in front of him. This was one of approximately 4 times in my life I have thrown up from drinking too much (as a side bar, one time, I threw up out a cab window. I was a freshman in college and a majority of the vomit was malibu and the rest was Boone's Farm Strawberry Hill, but I digress)
Nouns takes this moment to say...
Nouns: "Wait I know who two of the guys are but who was the third?"
GP: "Yeah, it was Nouns' best friend and my best friend, but who was the other."
(oh yeah, did I forget to mention that two of the guys happened to be the best friends of two of my friends?)
Me (with head on table and pointing at Our Next Door Neighbor): "HIS BEST FRIEND"
Motto of the story: Fuck that whole 3 degrees from Kevin Bacon thing. Any one's male best friend is 1 degree from me and by "1 degree" I mean about 3 vodka sodas and one sloppy make-out session. I just want to put this out in the universe now as a disclaimer... don't be upset if I make out with them (shit, just to cover my ass I'd like to include your boyfriend, your brother - and based on past transgressions your husband's brother, your priest, your dad, and your husband...oh and your poster of N*Sync, David Beckham, or someone equally appealing)
The only solution I could cook up is this...I'm thinking of hiring a babysitter for myself and taking her with me to bars. She will preferably be like the nanny on Fox's Nanny 911 and wear a cloak, speak in a British accent, and slap my hand and say "no, no young lady, this is NOT how big girls behave, now is it?" when I start to lunge toward men in bars.
This way, at least when I can't find a man I can force her to entertain me by singing "I've Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts" and yelling "God Save the Queen" and I can only imagine how we'll bond while she tells me how to curse at people using British slang. Well... that or I guess I could just drink more. Yeah, I think I'll just drink more.
GP and I set out on what I can only refer to as Boozefest 08 (and yes, I did say Tuesday). Before you judge me, bare in mind that all I do on Wednesday mornings is stand on a platform, get eyefucked by a bunch of old men (mullets optional but preferred) and push my boobs together and smile if someone is backing down from a bid (this is much less scandalous than it sounds and no, I do not work in a whorehouse in Singapore.)
Back to the booze.
We swing by Our Next Door Neighbor's apartment, who GP now works with and Nouns knows through an ex. I have had one other actual interaction with Our Next Door Neighbor and it was also the instance when I lost my flip cup virginity and he lost his iPhone. Needless to say, we are old friends now.
The place where we were planning on consuming said margaritas is mostly patio and it was raining. We are serious though, and even when the waiter tries to dissuade us from sitting outside and ordering we demand service then slam the first and demand another. Nouns had been on a date (what a bitch) and when I got a call from her at 9:45 (or as my internal clock read 2 and 1/2 margaritas) I thought... oh this is going to be good hoping for a real date horror story (like last weekend when some guy grabbed a friend of mine in the bar and told her he had "already pooped twice today").
I had been telling Our Next Door Neighbor a story and I mentioned my friend Blond Elementary age School Teacher (Don't let the name fool you, she has loud sex. I've heard it more than once.). I turn to ONDN and I say "Do you know BEAST?" he says yes that he knows her through a former room mate. I don't know this former roomie, but then he drops an intriguing bomb... his other room mate was the first guy I hooked up with after my ex-boyfriend The Grinch stole three years of my life. I also awkwardly stood by and watched this same guy hit on, oh, all of my friends while I giggled endlessly at his desperation. I responded to this information as any normal person would, by pretending that none of this ever happened and I merely met his room mate in passing.
He either fell for it or didn't only the tequila knows. Witty banter ensued and at about 3 margaritas I let the story about the strip club slip. So Our Next Door Neighbor now thinks I am a raving whore (and probably rightly so if you ask anyone but my crotch). To make matters worse I tried to explain to him that I REALLY am not a complete hussy. He tells me he is not the kind of guy that talks about his conquests, so I don't even have anything to hold over his head. Solution: "CARLOS! MAS MARGARITAS"
About this time Nouns shows up with a less than satisfactory explanation of the date. She says it was fine(ish), but there was no booze involved...which would have made me bolt immediately, but lets be honest, I never would have gotten into that situation in the first place (partly because I have never been asked on a date and look up to Cougars as role models and partly because I have this new habit where I walk in to a restaurant, up to the hostess, and say "I'll have a vodka soda" - this is often met with shock and disgust and a little bit of mumbling of..."I, uh, ok, I'll tell your waiter when you are seated in half an hour?")
OH MY GOD - I know this has nothing at all to do with this post, but I just saw a commercial for Step Up 2: The Streets, and I am not a lesbian (unless you ask my mother) but when the main girl does that chest pump move while the main guy holds his hand over her.... wow. Excuse me while I go take a cold shower.
We begin discussing awkward situations. I tell the table that the second most awkward situation I have ever been in was the night in Austin in Our Bar where three guys I had hooked up with in less than 3 months showed up. Two of them hate each other, and the other was Our Next Door Neighbor's ex-roomie. To make things less awkward I decided to apply a little social lubricant and drank more booze than nature should and did allow.
One of the 3 drove me home and as I was trying to throw all of the dirty clothes off of my bed, I preceded to vomit right in front of him. This was one of approximately 4 times in my life I have thrown up from drinking too much (as a side bar, one time, I threw up out a cab window. I was a freshman in college and a majority of the vomit was malibu and the rest was Boone's Farm Strawberry Hill, but I digress)
Nouns takes this moment to say...
Nouns: "Wait I know who two of the guys are but who was the third?"
GP: "Yeah, it was Nouns' best friend and my best friend, but who was the other."
(oh yeah, did I forget to mention that two of the guys happened to be the best friends of two of my friends?)
Me (with head on table and pointing at Our Next Door Neighbor): "HIS BEST FRIEND"
Motto of the story: Fuck that whole 3 degrees from Kevin Bacon thing. Any one's male best friend is 1 degree from me and by "1 degree" I mean about 3 vodka sodas and one sloppy make-out session. I just want to put this out in the universe now as a disclaimer... don't be upset if I make out with them (shit, just to cover my ass I'd like to include your boyfriend, your brother - and based on past transgressions your husband's brother, your priest, your dad, and your husband...oh and your poster of N*Sync, David Beckham, or someone equally appealing)
The only solution I could cook up is this...I'm thinking of hiring a babysitter for myself and taking her with me to bars. She will preferably be like the nanny on Fox's Nanny 911 and wear a cloak, speak in a British accent, and slap my hand and say "no, no young lady, this is NOT how big girls behave, now is it?" when I start to lunge toward men in bars.
This way, at least when I can't find a man I can force her to entertain me by singing "I've Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts" and yelling "God Save the Queen" and I can only imagine how we'll bond while she tells me how to curse at people using British slang. Well... that or I guess I could just drink more. Yeah, I think I'll just drink more.
3 comments:
I was definitely with you the night that you threw up in the cab!!! HAHAHAHA!!...oh man. The memories!
tecnically not a drop of vomit ended up IN the cab, the outside... well thats another story
That very cab is the one I hailed with my leg and then we didn't have to pay for it. God, I'm talented.
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