Gizzard the lush

First things first, I’m going to post 2 emails for DOUCHE DAY this week since I didn’t get to post the counter fellacio story last week.  I assume the demon jack off poonanis quit paying his comcast bill and they shut him down, because I quit getting free internet last week.  Sucks. Sucks real bad.

On to bigger and better things, my Friday night turned into a drunken circus.  Literally, I was swinging from trees like a monkey.  My friend GiGi and I went out to get a pitcher and a pie at 6:30 and I was at home face first on the floor drooling on myself by 11. The pitcher turned into pitcher(s) which turned into vodka tonics and then shots of tequila.  Needless to say HOTTIE MCHOTTERSON got a phone call and it could’ve gone better, the time was 10:13 and the call lasted 38 seconds:


HOTTIE: Hello?

Me: scHiiii, whats you doing?

HOTTIE: Sitting on the balcony, are you drunk? It’s 10 o’clock.

Me: NO.. I.. *pause for 4 seconds*

HOTTIE: Gizzy, are you there?

Me: Yeah what are you doing?



Me: HOTTIEEEEEE MCHOTTERSONNNNNNN (I was acutally calling him HOTTIE MCHOTTERSON, not his real name.)

Me: I..I Gigi is coming

Hottie: Why don’t you just call me back when you get home?

Me: Okbye.

Well, I didn’t call him when I got home.  I can’t remember if it was because I knew he was never going to speak to me again or if I was just too drunk to function.  I thought I outgrew drunk dialing when I outgrew the frats.

Well HOTTIE called me bright and early.  I was supposed to do a captain mo gig up by his house so he wanted to do something when I got off, even after I put myself to shame.

Fast forward to Saturday night, I get off work and parked to the left of the tennis court at his $3.5 million dollar house. Wow.  I mean I’ve seen some big houses but this was unbelievable.  I had already told him I couldn’t meet his parents dressed as a pirate hooker so I needed some assurance that he was going to be the only one home.  They could’ve been home and we never would’ve seen them, he stays in the guest house when he’s home and if it weren’t for the neighbors calling about my hoopty sitting out back claiming there was a robber in the neighborhood they would’ve never known I was even there.

I changed into presentable looking clothing and we were on our way.  We pulled up to a restaurant on the beach of a lake and sat on the patio area that was over the lake for the sunset while we waited for our table, which was by the window facing the lake.  All joking aside this was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen, if my camera wasn’t stuck to the bottom of my purse in milk duds I would’ve taken my own pictures.

They had mostly seafood and steak.  I had a bloody steak like a lady, and he had lobster.  Post dinner we walked out on this little pier thingy you see and got on board a boat that drove us all over the lake and then stopped dead center for the fireworks show.  I doubt he planned that but if he did he deserves some kind of medal.  After boozing it up all night I had to stay at his house (oh what a shame.)  Surprisingly, he didn’t pull any hanky panky and kept it PG-13.

Sunday morning we got up and he made us french toast, eggs, and bacon then we hopped in the car and went to the city to go to the real beach.  Basically it was the perfect date considering the ass I made out of myself the night before and the fact that I called him not 2 hours ago asking if he could stop by to unzip my dress, it was tots stuck.

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