Tag Archives: bri

The drama of all dramaz! A second chance with HOTTIE.

Well Christ on a cracker, this weekend was fucking nuts.  I’ll just dive right in with no introduction because it was that crazy.  Friday night was a typs night, went out with my usual crew nothing out of the ordinary happened, I came sulking home alone and had to position my pillow to spoon me so it felt like I had a man in bed with me.  But Saturday night, is a different story.    It was my last night ever at school so I knew something tragic was going to happen.

I went over to Bri’s suspecting it would be a typical Saturday where we all got slob knob drunk and I would wait the whole night in anticipation to see if HOTTIE was going to make an appearance and then go home a disappointed Debbie.

After 2 hours of catch phrase and a bottle of vanilla admiral nelson’s rum later Bri says to me, “HOTTIE was supposed to come over here tonight.” I’m immediately ready to take her by the neck and run her into the wall and scream, “Great! What did you do you little cunty? Tell him I was going to be here then he backed out?” “His friend used to date my old roommate and didn’t want to come to this house.” Ok shew.  “But he’ll be out!” YAYYY!! My 2nd chance! Bend.  And SNAP!

Fast forward, 2:20 a.m. arrives and we are walking into our last bar and my last opportunity to see HOTTIE since he was no where to be found at the first bar, most likely lurking around dark corners to avoid me.  We were all pretty sloshed stumbling up to the doors when the gates of heaven opened up and those precious golden rays of sunshine shone down upon him.  Can’t you just hear the music? Ooooooouuuuuuuuuuuu (you know that heavenly cherub music.) HOTTIE was standing in line in front of me.  And it’s game time!

I tried to act cool like I didn’t see him as he went to one bouncer and I went to the other.  I pulled my notorious rummage through my purse until he sees you and you can act surprised move and like always it worked.  I felt him grab me and pull me over to the side where we engaged in an amorous hug for 2 minutes too long and he grabbed my face and said “I’m really sorry for not calling you, someone told me you and snoop-linus were back together but I saw him the other day and found out it wasn’t true.” Welp, that answers my first series of questions. Mmmmm he hot.

We gabbed for a few then he wanted to go take shots so we did, and then he disappeared.  Wicky what now? Come on playa.  I wasn’t about to let him walk out on my last night, I didn’t care how desperate I looked so I texted him and he told me to come over.

On my way up his elevator (no pun intended) snoop-linus started to call.  This is weird, because I haven’t talked to snoop-linus since the mom pants incident.  So I’m thinking someone must’ve seen me sucking face with HOTTIE at the bar and told him.

So I’m standing in HOTTIE’s room, my phone is blowing up and I don’t want him to start asking questions so I keep ignoring it.  Our convo continues and we start to talk about the night of the elevator incident.  HOTTIE tells me he doesn’t remember anything from that night, thank the lord there is a jesus and my prayers have been answered, hallelujah!! Buuuut, like a nerd-tard I fill him in on every juicy detail of how I bolted out, laid down in the elevator, and the mystery poop I found strewn about my apartment the next day.   He says, “Did we do anything that night? You know like do it?” Um, no 5 year old.  We did not do it. ANNNND that answers my next series of questions of why he only replied with “It’s no problem” to my text about him not thinking I’m weird because I laid down in an elevator, it was because he doesn’t remember it.  Fucking AWESOME! And it’s even more awesome to know that if and when we do it he will have no problem not calling me and acting like a complete freak when I see him sober.

Anyway, by this point my phone had gone off another half dozen times and his had rang 4 times.  He finally looked at it and said, “Do you know why Snoop-Linus has called me 4 times in a row? Does he know you’re here or something?” Uhhhh, NO!  So I look at my phone and discover that I ACCIDENTLY PICKED UP ONE OF SNOOP-LINUS’ CALLS AND HE HAD BEEN LISTENING TO OUR ENTIRE CONVERSATION! So what does HOTTIE do to avoid causing additional problems? He calls him back.

What. An. IDIOT!

“Oh yeah Gizzy came by here, yeah yeah.  Blah blah blah. “ Then Snoop says something to HOTTIE to make him hang up on him, I don’t know what it was but HOTTIE looked at me with a blank expression and his face was as white as a ghost and says, “Gizzy, I’m going to ask you to leave before I make this next call.” Ummmmmmmmmm, ok? Really? So he gets up and shoves me out the door.  So here I am standing outside his apartment with my ear pressed to the door while I’m trying to pick my jaw up off the ground.  When I couldn’t hear through the door I decided it was time to break out the bazookas and call Snoop up myself and be like what the fuck man? And he was in tears about how I could be hanging out with one of his friends after I dated him for most of my post pubescent life, which later turned into him telling me that HOTTIE spilled the beans about everything that had happened between us, the dates, the hanging out, the planning our enginerd family together, so he threatened to ruin HOTTIE’s life if he talked to me again.  Soooo that explains being dumped/kicked out/the end of my 2nd and last chance at love/having an enginerd clan with HOTTIE MCHOTTERSON.

…..And I never heard from him again. So, laterz HOTTIE.

I would now like to introduce a segment that we will call, WHAT WOULD HOTTIE DO (wwhd) if you would like to pull a douchey move and throw someone under the bus or think you’re about to get a douchey move pulled on you write to us and I’ll tell you what HOTTIE would do in that situation so you know how to properly prepare.  Some example situations:

1 -You went on a few great dates and now the guy wont call?


HOTTIE would still not call, so what you should do as the girl is call him up and tell him he’s a flaming douchebag and you have better thing to do with your time then wait around for his lame-ass call.

2 -You’re the other girl and it’s making you nervous.


HOTTIE in girl form would call up the girlfriend and tell her all the juicy details about what had happened between her and the bf and then never talk to you again.

You know stuff like that.  The point is here people, don’t be a HOTTIE.  Have some pride and be a Gizzy.

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Growing up is hard to do when you’re a single mother of 4.

Cheerio old chaps! Yesterday I started hysterically crying and kicked all the blankets off of my bed in a fit because I realized that in less than two weeks my adult life, as we know it, begins.  Most of my friends, including Lucky, have been out in the real world for a few years now, god bless them all.

I, on the other hand took not 1 extra year but 2 extra years to finish college.  I’m every guy’s dream girl. I am days away from maybe being a certified financial planner (fingers crossed I passed the test.) That’s not what I want to do though, I hate my life. Anyone wanna hire me? Please? Gizzy, CFP wants to work for YOU!

It really started to hit me the other day when I went to my dad’s humble abode so he could fix the hoopty. He says to me, “Hey Gizzy, when you’re not doing anything during the days you could paint that room.” As he points to the room that is at least a million square feet and covered in choo-choo train wallpaper.  I snapped back that I would be spending my days looking for jobs so his train room can suck it.

Then, I started to think about how depressing my life is going to be.  Right now, my day consists of working my 9ish to 5’er job at a prominent investment firm, (They don’t want to hire me full time, dicks.  Well, I don’t want to work there full time, so put that in your pipe and smoke it.) and then going out every night and getting belligerently drunk while on a hunt for HOTTIE or an equivalent match with Bri and acts gay but says he’s straight friend Adam.

But once I move home… the whole story changes.  It’s like I go from a fun spunky 20 something to 45 year old mom pants.  I’m going to be sitting on the back porch with my dad and step-mom sipping vino in our matching rocking chairs while we watch the horses graze the pasture and wait for our bacon grease from the morning to harden. Annd… that’s it.  That’s all I’ll be doing. Every. Single. Day.

Unless of course I decide to drive to my mom’s house, where I can watch i-Carly and play barbies till the cows come home with my 6 year old sister.  It’s what every 25 year old single girl that is fresh out the college scene is looking for in order to have a fulfilling life.

Other Things Turning into Mom Pants Made Me Realize:

-That I should invest in every color of high wasted bongo pants, so I can look the part.

-Instead of saving my monies to buy a home for my unforeseeable family, I’m going to make it my engagement ring fund. Since I’ll be purchasing one for myself before any man does.

-That I need to start using phrases when I answer the phone like, “Yello!” and “Talk to me…” to give myself more character.  It also wouldn’t hurt if I made my voicemail, “Hello?*long pause* Ok, I’m not really here AHAHA gotcha! Leave a message at the beep.”

-I need to get a wallet that has picture holders, so that I have a place to put all the photos of my children. When I see old friends at the grocery or the dollar store I need them to be easily accessible.

-I need to get pictures of some children.

-Found some. I need to sit down with my lawyer and plan out my will.  The hoopty will go to my oldest son – Bobby

My girl, Xiofeng, will get my old blackberry, my collection of douchearoo’s douchey emails, and what’s left of my liver.

And the twinsies, T’Sha’n and Frieda, can have my sunscreen, my cash, my rotisserie, and my bed

(UPDATE: The rotisserie goes to Lucky, as well as my high school diaries, my little black book, and my list of guys who are rumored to be tainted by the STID!  It’s actually std, but when I say it I say STID! Now you know for next time.)

– I need to make sure to pay the $1 to USPS to have my mail forwarded to hell. C/o Lucifer.

-Look into buying every color of the rainbow in lipliner. The 8o’s are back.  And the 90’s, they’re next. And in a decade when it happens and I am 55 and mom pants you best believe I’ll be looking good.

-That I lay out my collection of coozies and decide which is may favorite so that I am sure to always have it keeping my coors light ice cold.

-That since making this list of realizations I have realized that I am not only going to be 45 and mom pants; but white trash, 45, and mom pants.

-That I might not be able to throw back shots like I used to back in college, so I should always be sure to bring enough wine spritzers to parties to keep me as tipsy as the kids.

-That if I am going to be 45, a single mother of 4, and engaged to myself I should learn how to cook something other than tgi fridays mozzerella cheese sticks and spaghettios.

-That this list has gotten way out of control, and what I really need to do instead of blogging about how I’m going to be on welfare, is look for jobs in cool places that will allow me to send Bobby, Xiofeng, Frieda, and T’Sha’n to private school.

-Ok, I’ll do that now.

(2ND UPDATE: Right after I did the first update where I wrote Lucky into my will of misfortune, I felt something in my underwear scratching my butt. So I stuck my hand down there and pulled out the mystery butt scratcher.  It was a starburst wrapper.  I can’t tell you the last time I had or have even seen a starburst.  The time. Is 4:13 a.m. And I am utterly disgusted/confused.)

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Tales From Tuesday Night

I went out last night for pint night.  Standard operation.  I drink vodka tonics.  Standard operation.  Drama ensued.  Standard operation.

Yesterday morning I was galavanting around campus getting my last few items on the list set up for when I leave this hell hole, when I walk in a building and see HOTTIE MCHOTTERSON standing at the coke machine.  I internally flip my shit, if I turn around and walk out he’ll know it’s because of him, if I walk up and say hi that could be weird since he hates my drunk guts, what do I do what do I do? Ok I’ll just rummage through my bag and pretend like I don’t see him.

I think I’m in the clear when I feel a tug on my arm and hear him say, “Hey Gizzy!” Ok, deep breaths, in and out, in and out.

Me: Ohhhh heyyyyy!! How have you been?

HOTTIE: Pretty good, you?

Me: Good good, whatcha been up to? (Other than not returning my texts, asshole.)

HOTTIE: Oh just school trying to pass this summer class,  you know how it goes.

Me: Yeah me too, same old stuff.

*awkward silence for 10 seconds, but felt like 10 years*

HOTTIE: Well, it was good to see you.

Me: Yeah you too, bye!

So after I text my psychiatry group (Lucky, Mercedes, and Gigi) I get mixed feelings about the convo. Gigi always the optimist tells me I have to let this one go because it’s not going to happen and I am a loser and should go for guys my own age anyway.  Lucky and Mercedes tell me it’s a good sign that he chased me down to say hello.  I like the latter of those two conclusions, which brings me to later that night.

Gigi, acts gay but says he’s straight friend Adam, Chuck, Chuck’s friend LB, our new friend Bri and I are all taking shooters at Gigi’s place before going out.  I’m moping about how I should just kill myself because I’ll never find anyone who is hot and doesn’t cheat on me while everyone else is having a gay old time.  We walk to the bars and this convo happens:

Me: Gigi, HOTTIE’s lights are on, should I text him?

Gigi: YEAH! Tell him to come out.

Bri: Who are you talking about?

Me: This guy I like, but he hates me because I’m a drunk, he lives right there.

Bri: Are you talking about HOTTIE MCHOTTERSON?

Me: Um, yes.

Bri: You told me about him but never told me his name.  He is best friends with my roommates boyfriend and over at my place all the time with them, I’ll hook a sista up.

Then, I tell her about the elevator incident and she thinks it’s not a big deal and tells me that he is very shy and in the 3 years that she has known him not once has she seen him with a girl or ever heard him speak of a girl.  I take this as good news and buy Bri and I some shots.

As the night wears on we decide to scheme a plan to get HOTTIE and I together tonight.  Bri is going to text him and beg him to come out with her and her new friends (insert Gizzy) then we’re all going to pre-drink at Bri’s place and HOTTIE and I will fall madly in love and get back on course making our enginerd clan.

I really like this plan and I hope it works.  Since Bri has been so generous to me and my love life I felt it was my duty to wingwoman for her for the rest of the night.  She found a guy she thought was hot so I was stuck talking to his douchey friend, Rob Thomas (yes, like from matchbox 20, I made him show me his ID.) Rob Thomas is one of those guys who thinks he’s all that and a bag of chicken, but he ain’t.

Anytime someone would touch him he would throw his hands up and say, “HEY! Hands off the merchandise.” He also would not stop bragging about how he went to Penn State and that he was 28. See, this is why I don’t date older guys.  The younglings have nothing to brag about other than their sexual escapades and how much ever clear they drank the night before, they’re just a bundle of fun.

Being a good wingwoman and not wanting to vagina block Bri I give Rob Thomas my number and agree to hang out as a group again.  Big mistake.  Today I wake up to a text from him asking if Bri and I want to meet him and some friends out tonight, then he facebooks me, and as soon as I push accept he facebook chats me except he was pissed off because in my interests on facebook it says that I am interested in asians.  He jumps up my ass asking if I am USING him because he is asian.

What exactly would I be using you for, I ask Rob Thomas.  He says to fulfill some asian fantasy.  WOW.  I didn’t say I wanted to bang all of the 5 billion asians in the world.  I said I am interested in asians.  My other interests are putt-putt and boxed wine.  He can’t take that seriously, can he? Well he does.  So I proceed to tell Rob Thomas, the asian, why I am so fascinated by asians.

I mean, at least once a day I see an asian sprinting down the street with their arms full of shit and I just always wonder where do these asians have to be with their shit in such a hurry? And if I don’t see one sprinting down the street for no reason I’ll see one aimlessly wandering down the street.  It’s a win, win.

I could go on for hours about why I love asians and think they are so hilarious, but I’ll spare the feelings of those who are offended and who now think I’m racist and stop.  But, Rob Thomas does not agree that asians are funny and said he had to go.  Then, I do the greatest thing ever and look at Rob Thomas’ facebook profile picture:

And he proves my point to a T. I hope I see him out tonight.

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