Tag Archives: captain morgan

Not about Britney, bitch.

Whew! Gang, I’m going to admit it, we’ve had some tough subjects on the blog lately—tampons, gynos, breakups, married men, and Justin Bieber. So Gizzy & I thought we’d actually do our job and give you some comic relief. Which is why we called upon one of our favorite bloggers, Kevin.

I love Kevin, because he loves vodka, female rappers, and baking. He also has the same name as my favorite movie character, Kevin McCallister.

Basically what Lucky is trying to say is that if we could choose only 1 drunk, gay, asian, baker to be our bff, it would totally be Kevin. I mean, even the title of his blog gets us excited. Cranberry and vodka, please. Just brilliant!

Yeah, enjoy.

The girls at Cocktails at Tiffany’s requested that I write a guest blog post for their site, which is this site. I could have said no, but I realized that they have more readers than I do. So now that I have volunteered, I’m expecting this post will blow you away and then you will be all like, “This kid is great! I have to read more on what he has to say about complete nonsense going on his life!”

Of course I don’t want (or plan) on full-blown exposure, as I didn’t fare well when people talked about me for a story I submitted on a drunken whim (i.e. 2Birds1Blog via May 2010). Other than looking to amuse – and maybe impress – you in short, I don’t have any other objectives at all. Right now you’re merely a reader of what I’m about to randomly throw at you just to see if you even like me. And it’s cool if you don’t. Think of this as an audition and you’re the judge. You can stop anytime by clicking on the previous icon if you want. I never liked William Faulkner or Sarah Palin’s literary works anyway, and never intend on meeting them (that is, Faulker’s grave and Palin dead or alive).

But maybe you’ll get a better sense of who I am within the next few paragraphs or so. And if you haven’t had enough of me, perhaps I would suggest you to my site by clicking here or grazing your eyeballs to the right to find my blog (too far, now you’re looking at the site’s credits. A little left. Right there! I’m under “Cranberry and vodka, please.” [Actually I’m not much a cranberry and vodka drinker these days as I currently prefer it with just soda and lime when I’m out, but calling my blog “Vodka and soda, please” sounds stupid. Before I go out, I’ll drink a can of Four Loko. Having all that sugar in my body, combined with cranberry juice, spells out hot mess disaster, or H-O-T-M-E-S-S-D-I-S-A-S-T-E-R]). Best believe I’m as uninteresting as you would imagine a pre-gastric bypass Star Jones, Monique, and chubby Oprah fighting over the last drumstick in a bucket of KFC.

Maybe I’m trying too hard to impress you.

Allow me to start over.

Hi, I’m Kevin. I’m assuming most of the readers for this blog are women. I minored in women studies so I understand your oppression better than you. I’m also a gay man, which means I don’t want to get you pregnant, but do want to see you in heels 24/7. This doesn’t mean, however, that I love Glee, flip my hands, and whip my hair back and forth, OR THAT I WANT YOU TO BE MY FAG HAG. Just a bit of notice to anyone looking to hook up their gay friends together: It’s the absolute worst when a straight friend tries to hook me up with their gay friend thinking we will get along mainly on the basis that we’re gay. (My date ended awfully. Click here for the story). I’m merely an average liberal minded, Asian, yoga inducing, baker who religiously listens mostly to folk music and fast bumping hip-hop (which I discovered after organizing my iTunes and realizing that most of my music was thanks to sitting in many coffee shops simultaneously wishing I was apart of Trina’s bad bitches entourage). What I’m getting at is that I’m indifferent about being gay. Sure it has its pros and cons, but it doesn’t define who I am. I have gay friends, but that’s because they’re mostly Asian too. This is the part where I should have taken out that “I’m also a gay man” bit, but too concerned with making a point. And to be honest, I feel that some gay men conform to being “gay: because it’s totally cool to call your other gay friends “girl” and listen to the latest Britney album as if she’s going to tell you the secret to long-term financial success. Do you know how many times I read Facebook statuses of, “Don’t be a drag, be a queen!” when “Born This Way” made its debut? It had to be one of the most annoying things I experienced since I found out egg white and white were the same color; honestly, WTF?!

Damn it, now I sound like a fucking douche.

I haven’t done a very good job impressing you and now I’m coming off like a conceded mother effer like the time I tried convincing someone I bleached my asshole on a regular basis. Now I’m coming up with random anecdotes and you might be thinking, Kill yourself, Kevin. Kill yourself. If not, read on!

Nothing to the gay community. They’ve done a lot and I appreciate the years of societal tolerance past generations had paved for me to enjoy my life. It’s just the stereotypical connotations people, even myself, think of when they imagine gays to be like. (Click here for my view on it). All-in-all I could really say that I’m neither this nor that. I don’t think anyone really wants to be classified when identifying themselves since most of us are in that generation where it’s all about me. Not me-me. I said it earlier before that I can’t handle people knowing a lot about me. Then again it makes me look like a hypocrite having a blog and recording my shameless experiences through a public website for people to read.

This is not how I typically write. Promise. Matter of fact, I’m much less condescending and make more sense. If you think I’m lying, then you my friend have just killed a Pokemon. I write about getting drunk and doing stupid things.

Speaking of making sense, lately I’ve felt like the only time I come up with great new ideas, nuances, and epiphanies are when I’m under the influence. (Maybe you’re expecting me to outline what things I’ve done in the past, but perhaps it’s best to keep those things quiet until you get me really drunk and then I will be DYING to tell you a secret. I told a friend the other day as we were drinking, “Hey John, don’t forget to remind me that when I’m drunk so I can tell you a secret about [redacted].” More times than not I forget what I say.)

Honestly I’m writing this all on a whim. Typically I don’t like to sit down and edit my work and people have told me and I’ve attempted editing a few times, but there’s other things I’d rather do. Like eat frozen chicken tacos. The stuff I’m putting out on the Internet is for people to freely read. Some of the funniest things written on the Internet are free. And maybe I lack the patience for editing, but the quality, I think, is still there nonetheless. I don’t think that anyone posting comments on YouTube gives a fuck about what anyone else thinks about their grammar. Then again, I love reading the comments where users bicker back and forth about grammar problems. I believe that most forms of entertainment should be free; that’s why I go to the bookstore to read a book I don’t want to pay for because isn’t it why they have chairs and tables there? And if you’re still paying for your music, I’m really sorry. I’m known in my different circle of friends to be a cheap person – or “niggardly” which my law professor so likes to use (and she doesn’t think it will make us feel uncomfortable?!) – so I’m totally fine with people reading my work for free. There’s no other exposure better than the Internet.

Damn it again, the topic I wanted to write about in the beginning of writing this was going to be about gay and straight relationships. And all I really did was ramble.

I hope that my objective was at least minimally met to make you laugh or giggle or snicker. Of course if you didn’t like what I had to say, it’s okay, because I already think you’re a tool.


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You’re in love with a stripper. No, seriously.

I’m taking pole dancing classes.

Last night was my second of three classes, which means I’m 2/3 of the way to working dat pole like a true professional bitch. I’ve always wanted to take a pole dancing class, mainly out of curiosity, and  it looks like a fun workout.

Now, I think I’ve made it clear that I don’t work out. At. All. So when I showed up to the first class last week and found out we had to lift 5-pound weights in the warmup, I was already sweating.

Yes, I know, in order to lift myself on the pole, I need to have immense upper body strength, which is something I’ve never had, even when I try. But you know, I really DO want to be able to hold myself up on the pole—it’s a hurdle I never even knew I wanted to leap.

I was nervous for the first class, but the teacher (a 60 year old woman who doesn’t look a DAY over 38) is really cool and my classmates (3 other girls all about my same age and build) are fun, too. We all know it’s an awkward situation—learning to do something that’s always been hidden in the underbelly of society, and we’re doing it in front of each other. So naturally, we just laugh it off and cheer each other on.

In the first class, we learned 5 tricks (out of the 16 total).

1. Approaching the pole. This is no laughing matter. You can’t just sloppily walk up to The Pole. You must approach it with ease and seduction, put your hands on your hips and your eyes on the prize, baby.

2. Walk around The Pole.

3. Dip. This pretty much speaks for itself…now dip! Baby! Dip!

4. Spin. This is one of the hardest ones we’ve learned so far, but probably the most fun. It’s a spin, with The Pole, so it looks like you’re dancing with someone. Weird, yet cool.

5. Slide. It’s the most seductive slide down the pole you’ve ever seen.

Last night we learned another handful of tricks—some on the pole, some on the floor (grrr), but we won’t learn anything major (like suspended in the air, hanging on with only your thighs) unless you make it to the advanced class. In order to get there, you have to master these 16 tricks and prove you can hold yourself on the pole.

I think I can! I think I can!

Anyway, after all that work nonsense on Friday, I just wanted to have a good weekend. However, I knew that was going to be a task because I had a ton of shit to get done before I go away for the weekend with Ralphie, Ben and Nicole. I ran errands nearly all day Saturday (after seeing the Director’s Fan Cut of The Bieb Friday night), and then had to get ready for a Stock the Bar party.


I show up to the party, by myself, with what I thought was an awesome gift: a bucket of mojito mix that you simply add water and rum to, freeze it overnight, and voila! 16 frozen mojitos. I brought the rum, too.

When I arrived at this house, it was freshly built, and amazingly American. The host couple was young and pregnant. As time passed, more came in twos. And they were pregnant. So there I was, the only single one there, and happily NOT preggers. I played drinking games by myself.

Then, it was time to open the gifts.

As we sat down, I noticed most everyone bought the bride and groom to be, some type of reserve something or other, except me. Oh well. But then, one of the husbands behind me says, “Who brought the rum.” He said “rum” as if it was bottled horse shit.

“I brought it,” I said. “What’s the problem?”

“Who brings rum?”

“I did, so fuck you,” I said.

Everyone heard me. Luckily, everyone stood up for me and the douche apologized. What killed me was his wife was sitting right there and didn’t even say anything. Why would you talk shit about someone’s gift when obviously that person is somewhere in the room?

Anyway, I continued eating and drinking…and before I knew it, I was caught in the pregnant corner with nothing to say. When I ran out of wine, I moseyed into the kitchen for a refill and one of the boyfriends said, “hey! You’re the one taking pole dancing!”


“I saw on your Facebook that you were taking pole dancing and I asked Molly (his gf) about it,” he said.

The girls gathered around me, asking me questions about the class, while their boyfriends nodded in glee—so happy they didn’t have to be the ones to convince their women to do something naughty. Here ye! Here ye! Gather ’round to hear the town slut!


One of these days I’ll find my very own man to be proud of my graceful, yet sexy, moves in the boudoir. But for now, I’ll just have to show off to my ladies in the pole dancing class. After all, for the last class, we get to invite all of our girlfriends to watch our routines.


“Saw so many pretty faces before I saw you, you. Now all I see is you, I’m coming for you. Don’t need these other pretty faces like I need you, and when you’re mine in the world, There’s gonna be one less lonely girl.”

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Guys #1, #2, #3 – Day 1

Well I had to work last night, so I’m guessing Lucky had better luck than I did on the whole meet 100 guys challenge.  I knocked 3 out today with The Captain present.  Honestly though, I should probably just use these 3 as practice because they really pooped on the party, what I’m trying to say is they were no Kelsey Grammer.



Age: 26

Description: Slightly overweight, balding, pale, and weird (basically everything I hate in life, See: Devil) but, liked me enough to ask me awkward questions for 2 hours and keep me company while The Captain and Captain’s Crystal were at each other’s throats whilst we promoted The Product. Literally, this convo happened:


I snicker to myself: In character! heheheheeee

The Captain: Ok! Ok! It’s cool, I’m cool you’re cool, Gizzy’s cool, we’re all good here.



So I moved over to the wine isle and snapped all the little Torres Wine action figures off the bottles and made them have a rodeo around the Four Loko.

Anyway, back to #1…

Relationship Status: Single

Occupation: Liquor Store Clerk (He only gets a 10% discount, not enough for me to go on a pity date to get some discounted booze)

Fun Fact: Secretly gets drunk in the bathroom while he’s at work. (Maybe we are soul mates?)

Did I give him my number: No … Was this a mistake? Maybe, I mean, the booze.. NO NO IT WAS NOT, DEVIL.



Age: 22

Relationship Status: It’s Complicated

Description: Medium height, medium build, dark hair, cute

Occupation: Student, The Captain’s Assistant (We work together as of tonight)

Fun Fact: He thinks everything is lame and doesn’t get excited easily

Did I give him my number? Yes, for work.  Obvi



Age: 34

Description: Short, cute, tan, dark hair, aggressive, drunk

Relationship Status: Married Separated (Still means married to me)

Occupation: Works for Budweiser

Fun Fact: Thinks I look “Absolutely Fabulous.” (<— might be gay? Reason for the separation?)

Did I give him my number?: FUUUUCK NO but maybe I should have because, the booze. This is going to be my weak point in this project, if a guy offers me anything for free I’m going to snap off my tear-away underwear and lay down like a real jew in the starfish position.


Sorry I don’t have better stories to report. But, the good ones will come when I am drunk, trust me.  And when I say “good” I mean good for you because anything for me when I am drunk is an absolute train wreck waiting to happen.  It usually occurs when I pronounce I am drunk and push myself  to take that 1 last shot.  At that point it’s like I’m running around with my eyes closed licking whatever I run into.

Anyway, we had 3 hours between events this evening and when The Captain asked me to hang out for that little Captain Break, if you will, I told him I had plans.  He was pretty taken aback, I mean I know it’s no surprise that Lucky is my only friend but I had a hot date planned, with myself.

First, I drove to the nearest blockbuster I could find, rented myself the girliest movie I could find (When In Rome ahh Josh Duhamel, my love) no big deal, then I went to a steakhouse ordered myself a steak, salad, baked potato, and rolls, to go, got in my car went to the grocery bought plastic forks and knives, A1 for the steak, and a bottle of water, still no big deal.  I parked in a parking lot and watched my movie on the portable dvd player I had packed ahead of time and ate myself a steak dinner. No big deal!  If I would have thought to bring a candle and some wine I would’ve had sex with myself in the backseat. I am so good at dates.  Not to mention I was still dressed in full Morganette attire-red lace up corset, fishnets, short black skirt, knee high boots, the usual. Yep, role play. No big deal. With a show of hands how many people feel sorry for me because I’m a loser?

Anybody? It’s cool, it was nbd.

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100th Post! 100 goodies!

The day has finally come everyone! (Sorry about the tags, I got carried away/wanted to get a bunch of hits.) Our 100th post has arrived!!!! HAPPY 100TH POST DAY TO US AND TO YOU!!! WOOHOOO!!!! (Picture me twirling my noise maker.) And for the 100th post Lucky and I have decided to revamp Cocktails at Tiffany’s so that we can not only tickle our 5 readers to death with all of these exciting changes but also so that we can grab the attention of some people with lots of money (Kelsey Grammer) who might be interested in sponsoring us to be us.  Here’s what you have to look forward to in the coming weeks/months:

Weekend posts, audio posts(mostly drunken), a new COCKTAILSATTIFFANYS.COM web address DOT COM!, a Dear L,G,&ShyGuy advice segment , posts about Lucky and Gizzy’s upcoming reunion and the shenanigans that will ensue *ahem* black wednesday, new years eve, and dressing up as fruit of the loom at 7 o’clock in the morning to drink and be merry at Gizzy’s alma mater’s rival football game, but mostly the moment you’ve all been waiting for, the announcement of what won the 100th post poll.  It was a 3 way tie between post our middle school pics, 100 Lucky and Gizzy fun facts, and meet 100 guys. It was a hard decision and the winner is…






Not Yet…

ALL 3! (I said WHOMP! DER it is! Everyboday! WHOMP! Der it is)So let’s jump right on in the 100th post pool like we waited 20 minutes after eating but we really only waited 2.

100 Fun Facts on Lucky & Gizzy:

1. Gizzy will not eat boneless wings from Buffalo Wild Wings unless they are accompanied by Bud Light Lime and buffalo chips and cheese with 2 cups of ranch.  Some call this OCD.
2. Lucky has a massive fear of soggy bread, which she thinks derived from watching people throw bread at ducks in a pond at a young age. As a result, she doesn’t eat stuffing, dumplings, bread bowls, or double-decker sandwiches. (G Note: HAHA Should’ve thrown them some QUACKERS! God, I am funny.)
3. Gizzy puts on 3 coats of burts bees chapstick every night before bed. More OCD.
4. Lucky’s favorite movie has, and always will be, Home Alone.
5. Gizzy habitually eats old candy out of the bottom of her purse in front of people and thinks it’s ok.
6. Lucky’s lucky numbers are 3, 7, and 35.
7. Gizzy’s first job was at Osh Kosh B’Gosh where she remained for 6 years, well into college.
8. Lucky hates Dan Brown. And wishes him a painful death.
9. Gizzy sleeps with a giant stuffed pink flamingo.
10. Lucky is currently on the hunt for a faux fur vest. Eat that, PETA.
11. Gizzy suffers from insomnia which is really hurting her chances at ever getting a real job but enables her to think with new inventors via late night infomercials.
12. Lucky knows how to play one song on the guitar: The Nicest Thing by Kate Nash.
13. Gizzy and Lucky have recently discovered if they attend their 1o year high school reunion it will be exactly like Romy and Michelle’s High School Reunion.  Instead of inventing the post it, they have decided to purchase cubic zirconia rings and say their fiances are in London making deals.
14. Lucky wishes MTV would’ve had a second season of “Rich Girls,” starring Ali Hilfiger.
15. Gizzy’s mother agreed to let her name her little sister (Ella) because there is a good chance she will never get to name a child of her own.
16. Lucky knows everyone hates Dane Cook, but she still thinks he is hot and really funny.
17. Gizzy lost her virginity drunk, high, in a frat shower and under blue christmas lights to her ex-boyfriend, and moments later found out he had a new girlfriend. She is scarred for life.
18. Gizzy & Lucky were mildly obsessed with Justin Timberlake’s debut solo album, Justified.
19. Gizzy can text at the rate of 150 wpm.
20. Lucky is convinced that John Mayer is indeed the love of her life. No seriously, she isn’t just saying that. She truly believes that is why love hasn’t worked with anyone else.
21. Gizzy doesn’t care, she will watch Full House reruns and laugh at them like they are new until the day she dies.
22. Lucky auditioned for Playboy when she was in college. No, she didn’t make it. Only because she didn’t eff the photographer.
23. Gizzy strives to be fashionable but fails and fails again.
24. Lucky & Gizzy met over an out-of-control love for Hanson. That, and their phone numbers were one-digit different from each other’s.
25. Gizzy got dumped in high school by a guy with 2 letters for a name who she didn’t know was her boyfriend until he stated, “I just don’t like calling you my girlfriend.”
26. Lucky lives on the second floor of an apartment complex because she thinks she has less of a chance of getting robbed.
27. On senior spring break in high school Gizzy finally drunkenly made out with her high school crush in a bed in her and Lucky’s hotel room, then threw up on him.  A girl who would later become his girlfriend did the exact same thing the following night.
28. Lucky saves all of her ticket stubs.
29. Once Gizzy got hired as the assistant manager of the snack shop at a golf course and got fired after a month for being too awesome.
30. Lucky has never smoked weed. Ever. And she never will.
31. Gizzy firmly believes her life should play out like a romantic comedy.
32. Lucky’s favorite cereal is Lucky Charms. She eats the bread/cereal first, then the marshmallows.
33. Gizzy went to college for pre-med, then discovered frat parties.
34. Lucky & Gizzy purposely bought each other silver flasks for Christmas one year.
35. The only condiment Gizzy will eat is ketchup, and lots of it.
36. Lucky was a bartender in college…and afterward. She got fired for “not being slutty enough.”
37. Gizzy could eat nacho cheese doritos until the cows come home.  Even after stepdad told her he found rat poop in a bag of them once.
38. Lucky has fond memories of riding her tricycle indoors as a child.
39. Gizzy had diarrhea in her pants on the first day of 8th grade during a convocation in the school gym and stayed until the end.
40. Lucky is a Mac. (G too! And damn proud of it!)
41. Once Gizzy flashed an ex-boyfriend in the Red Lobster.
42. One of Lucky’s favorite books is Truman Capote’s, In Cold Blood.
43. Lucky and Gizzy were ecstatic when Kelsey Grammer followed them on twitter.  He is their new favorite celeb.
44. Lucky was the captain of her high school dance team.
45. Her freshman year of high school Gizzy tried to convince a guy to let her practice making out with him for her senior boyfriend. He said no.
46. Lucky & Gizzy played a game of speed on Lucky’s 19th birthday. Instead of beer, they drank screwdrivers. They believe they both barfed glitter, and Lucky was convinced she was going to die at 19.
47. Gizzy refuses to wear the color brown.
48. Lucky hasn’t been able to take a shot of Rumplemintz since she got sick from it. Jager, however, is a different story.
49. Gizzy will go out as a braless hippie as often as possible.
50. Lucky secretly wants to be like Carrie Underwood and marry a professional hockey player (you know, if John Mayer doesn’t come to his senses).
51. This is totally disgusting, but sometimes Gizzy thinks that after a big ol’ poop she’ll have no problem giving birth to a baby.
52. Lucky enjoys every movie featuring Vince Vaughn.
53. Gizzy likes to drink Goldschlager just because the little gold pieces cut your throat and she thinks it makes her more badass.
54. It isn’t a rare thing for Lucky to turn on Bonnie Raitt’s greatest hits and sing a full-fledged concert to no one, using a broom for a microphone.
55. Gizzy has an odd obsession with monkeys.
56. Lucky hasn’t watched an episode of The Office since they ripped the wedding dance from YouTube.
57. If the guys from The Buried Life came to Gizzy’s town and asked what she wanted to do before she died she would say, “Be inducted into the Cyrus family.”
58. If she wasn’t a writer, Lucky would want to be a chef. Maybe one day, she’ll be both.
59. Gizzy’s middle name is Rae.  Gizzy Rae Cyrus, at your service.
60. Lucky is an only child.
61. Gizzy aspires to one day be a good enough bowler that someone will ask her to join a league.
62. In high school, Lucky saw a psychic who told her that her parents would get divorced. And they did.
63. Gizzy likes to play The Sims (nerd alert) and recently forced her male rockstar sim to father 24 children, for funsies.
64. Lucky drinks dark beer, and as far as wine, she loves Merlot and Malbec. Mixed drink? Stoli and soda with one lime.
65. At age 7 Gizzy broke her arm and was stung by a pack of jellyfish.  On the same day.  Which happened to be Easter.
66. Lucky & Gizzy wore acrylic nails their senior year of high school. And it still didn’t help them get guys.
67. Gizzy was kicked out of a bar in college for her friend Dave’s 21st birthday for throwing a glass of water at the bartender because he cut her off.
68. If Lucky could eat one food for the rest of her life, it would be french fries. Or anything with peanut butter.
69. Gizzy tried to 69 once and failed. (Lucky says, for rizzle? How do you fail at that?)(Gizzy says, gravity and weak arms.)
70. Lucky once had a job as a carhop, slinging fried tenderloins and ice cream.
71. Gizzy eats her hamburgers plain with nothing on them.
72. Lucky is certain that Tu-Pac is alive, but not Biggie. She also thinks Aliyah was reincarnated to become Ashanti.
73. Gizzy’s drink choices are as follows: Captain Morgan, Red Wine, and Bud Light Lime.
74. She goes to the movies by herself more than she does with friends.
75. As a child Gizzy idolized Baywatch.
76. Lucky does not have an iPhone. She rocks a red Blackberry curve.
77. Gizzy was kicked out of another bar in college for falling asleep in a booth.
78. Gizzy & Lucky both have horrible eyesight, resulting in contacts and coke bottle glasses.
79. Gizzy was kicked out of a 3rd and final bar in college for standing on a table after the San Diego Chargers beat the Chicago Bears and screaming, “VICTORY BITCHES!” Gizzy does not like football and does not recall this, but heard it happened.
80. Lucky is a jealous person. She is envious of the rich and famous, anyone who is engaged or married, and anyone who drives a nicer car than her.
81. For Halloween in 8th grade Lucky threw a “Dress As Your Favorite Musician” party.  Gizzy dressed as Zac Hanson and Lucky as Alanis Morisette.
82. Lucky has naturally blond hair, but has dyed it dark brown for the last six years.
83. Gizzy will lie about her college gpa to anyone who will listen.
84. Lucky has only been out of the country once, on a cruise to Cozumel. She came close when she visited the Virgin Islands, but it doesn’t count.
85. On her 21st birthday, Gizzy took 26 shots and did not throw up, on her roommates 21st birthday Gizzy took 26 shots and threw up a whole cheesestick.
86. Lucky wants to start reading Lauren Conrad’s book series, and the Style book.
87. Gizzy worked at Victoria’s Secret for 1 month last Christmas in order to get a free bra for going through training.
88. Lucky agrees with ex-countess Luann, that “Money can’t buy you class,” but she still wants a lot of it.
89. Gizzy dry heaves when she sees snakes.
90. Lucky isn’t a movie buff. And she is especially bad at remembering names of actors/actresses.
91. Gizzy and Lucky once made out with the same guy in the same night.  His name was Karl.  They both slept on couches in his frat house living room in sleeping bags.
92. Lucky donates money to the local food bank each Thanksgiving.
93. Gizzy donates her time to the local American Legion Post in order to drink free beer.
94. Lucky doesn’t like Tyra or Oprah, and it’s because they’re annoying, not because they’re black.
95. Gizzy painted her bedroom red in high school and her parents still cringe at the sight of it.
96. Gizzy & Lucky both have huge racks (or, booberries).
97. Gizzy is a certified hypochondriac.
98. Lucky wears a pair of pink argyle slippers around her apartment (or white sweater boots, or leopard slippers).
99. Gizzy and Lucky almost got arrested once for underage drinking while home for the summer from college at a friend’s lakehouse.  The only words exchanged during the encounter: Gizzy to Lucky -> “We’re going to jail.”
100. Lucky has painted all of the paintings in her apartment (total: 8).

Next up on THE FUN FABULOUS 100TH POST DAY… is our pictures.  Aweeee, with captions, how exciting!

That’s me in 6th grade, with my parents. Before they got divorced. And no, I’m not from Miami—although my mom could’ve fooled you with her ring watch and fanny pack and everything.

Hey loser, Lucky! Yep, that’s me in 8th grade, wearing my uniform for the school dance team, the faggots.

That’s Gizzy, on the last day of 8th grade. Don’t worry Giz, Nike Air was cool then. THIS, WAS A ROUGH TIME! Also that is stepdad’s shirt, so embarrassing.

That’s me in high school, probably freshman or sophomore year. And I thought I was Hillary Duff. And I’m carry an Espirit purse. Christ.

Gizzy and I at our friends’ high school graduation party. Yeah, we look so cool in our Hollister gear. Since we are surfers and all.

Gizzy and me on winter break our freshman year of college. Which is why I look disgusting. I mean seriously, the freshman 15 didn’t miss a pound. Gawd.

Gizzy and me about to go to a Hanson concert. We were shitty drunk, I was in my cigarette phase. And still pretty huge. This is the summer before sophomore year in college.

Starting off pictures de Gizzy, we have me here dressed to the nines, clearly, with a fake dog trying to look innocent and sexy.  Moving on…

This is me dressed as Zac Hanson before Lucky’s “Dress As Your Favorite Musician” party in 8th grade.  Obviously, still going through that rough time.  Oh, what’s that framed photo on the wall you ask? Why here, it’s me and my mom’s glamour shots:

Also embarrassing.  But funny story, after we got these done a girl in my class at school stole the proofs and never gave them back.  Obviously she was jealous of my beauty.  I can see why.

Moving on to later in the 8th grade year we have my slumber party.  In the first photo you see we are playing light as a feather stiff as a board with Lucky’s body, obviously it’s working. The second picture is me with my Hanson cake.  That is all.

Here we find Lucky and myself on our last day of school sophomore year in high school.  I like this picture because of Lucky’s luscious half golden locks and my 1 strap tank top.  Christ.

Here we find Lucky getting ready before our senior winter formal posing with her self portrait back there on the wall (she says it’s not a self portrait because it has red hair but I think that’s up for interpretation.)

Here we are all ready to go to the formal.  As each other’s dates, but not before we take each other out to dinner first. And there I am with that awesome 1 strap again. 2003 fashion is so fetch.

Here is me, our friend E, and Lucky on twins day before our senior spring break.  We’re such a good time in our white tee’s and saucy jean skirts and pig tails. I love how I am like, the conservative one here in my long skirt and elbow tee. Fuck my ass.

Here Lucky and I are sitting outside of Hooters on our Senior spring break to Ft. Myers Beach, Florida, this was mere hours before I puked on my crush.  See the smile?

Here we are, the freaks waaaayyy in the back wearing Mardi Gras masks on Bourbon Street in NOLA (Pre-Katrina) where Lucky and I flew in, met up, and joined forces for our fall breaks freshman year of college.  Some may call this foreshadowing, but you can expect us to post a new picture of us on Bourbon Street on New Years *HINT*HINT* OK cats out of the bag.  Lucky and I are joining forces again and flying into New Orleans to party hardy for New Years Eve.  WAHOO!! You know we’ll get some good bloggin’ out of dat!

Here you’ll find me in the front, Lucky in the black, and Jossie peeing… after the bars one night I’m assuming? But who knows. Yes, I used to make it my goal to piss in public after the bars. No really.

Candice Cameron aka DJ TANNER wanted to stop in and say she approves this message.  (Soooo politico, Cameron.)

And the third, and final, part of this blog (the longest one in the world, sorry, WAKEUP) is LUCKY & GIZZY do 100 men. Ok, so maybe not “do” but meet. We’re going to split the job 50-50.

There are no rules to this game, we don’t have to give 100 guys our phone numbers or go on 100 dates.  We simply must meet 100 men and acquire the following information before January 1, 2011:

1. Name We really don’t need to waste our time with names, we’re assigning them each a number between 1 and 100.  How’s that for a study? Take that, bastards!

2. Relationship Status [criss, cross, applesauce that they’re all single!]

3. Age

4. Occupation (ugh)

5. Fun fact

We’ll give a description of what they look like too and if the cards are right we will get a picture of/with them, if it turns into more and we give them our number/get theirs, well that will be better for you because we’ll probably get a good lil bloggy out of it.  But we have got a lot of work to do.  We’re shooting for a 10% phone number range, as in we each expect to be talking to at least 5 guys by the end of this little game.  We won’t be telling the guys what we’re doing, although when they see us diligently typing notes into our blackberry’s they might figure it out, we’ll never tell.  So strap down your seatbelts and strap on your condoms, (strap on your dildos?)the rest of this year is about to be a wild ride…Day 1 starts now!

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Looking back with L & G




[sitting in red, cushy chair, swirling an aged merlot in glass, looking at Gizzy]

Oh, Gizzy. I know our beloved blog has only been up for nearly 100 entries, but we’ve really come a long way. I guess ’tis true, time flies when you’re shit-faced drunk the whole time.


[Pouring a shooter on the floor.]

Yep. Think about where we were when we first started the blog back in May, single and cynical.  Not much has changed, but we are way funnier.



Before we go any further with our masterpiece, we should take a moment to look back at our failures. You know, the ones that have ultimately become a success…which when you sit back and think about it, like I am now, it sort of makes you want to kill yourself, doesn’t it? Or hell, maybe I’m just not drunk enough!

[takes wine decanter and chugs the remainder of the merlot, wipes mouth with back of her hand]


[Shoves a handful of chocolate animal crackers into her mouth.]

HOTTIE MCHOTTERSON takes the failure cake for me.  I still dream about what it would have been like to be his girlfriend and have an enginerd clan running around while he looks hot and brings home the bacon, while subtlety being the nicest guy ever. Every time my phone goes off I hope it’s him saying I’m not an alcoholic, or embarrassing, and he is finally admitting that it turned him on when I laid down in his elevator and unknowingly exposed my cooter, and he wants me back. But it never is. Sigh.


[looks toward the burning fire, removes her glasses]

Looking back, I’d have to say the short-lived relationship with Flynn ended up being pretty funny. I did talk to him after I told him to go fuck himself, but of course it didn’t go anywhere. Big shocker. Bastard.

[looking off into the distance]

Now that I think of it, I’m realizing just how horrible Leslie is at setting me up. Think about it—it was her idea for me to talk to Flynn, saying he was a really sweet guy. It was her who told me The Has Been Matt McFaggot was ‘the sweetest guy ever’ and it was HER who told me to give Marko Polo a fucking chance!

[stands from chair, reaches over to the empty decanter, throws it to the hard wood floor, shattering glass across the room]

God dammit!


Those were some BAD dates dude. I think the worst day that I created for myself due to this blog was when I took a look at Future Gizzy and saw that I was going to be a 45 year old, single, mother of 4, stuck in the 80’s.  It really is a hard life, and you know what, I know that somebody has got to live it, and by the luck of the draw, I’m going to be that somebody.  I need a shot.

[Snaps her fingers at the non-existent bartender.]


[walking across shards of glass with bare feet, wincing in pain]

I guess my dating past is partly my fault—after all, Leslie wasn’t the one to introduce me to Townie, and force me to invite him for a visit, only to be taken on the worst second date of my life that lasted a fucking month!

[makes it across the room to the wine cellar, reaches for the nearest bottle and proceeds to open it with her teeth]


[Is drunk enough that she begins hearing creaks and voices coming from the floor above.]

OH MY GOD! DO YOU HEAR THAT?! It’s The Demon Jack-Off Poonanis coming back to haunt me! He found out that it was me that wrote the anonymous Snooki/JWOWW letter before Snooki and JWOWW ever did it and he has come back to kill me by way of sleep depravation.


[ignores Gizzy, pours new glass of wine, hobbles over to the fireplace, picks up a framed picture]

Oh, foam finger. God, I miss you so much. I sure hope things aren’t too bad hanging out with that snot-nosed mini-McFaggot.

[puts frame down, looks at Gizzy]

SEE! That’s what fucking happens when you try to be nice in this world. Well that, or you get to go on a fucking vacation with a 40-year-old-Lezzie who is obsessed with Betty Boop and motorcycles!


I’m down with lesbians, remember when I thought about becoming one? It’s a good thing that didn’t work out, freshman year of college everyone nicknamed me BEANS for some reason and used to joke with some saying, “Flick the bean,” I know it had to do with lesbians so it’s good that I stayed straight, right?


[grasping the wine bottle by its neck in one hand, the glass in the other, takes a swig from the bottle]

What will these next 100 posts bring? A fucking man? A new job? Another fucking Mary Kay party? Dear God, let it bring me a white-girl weave and a best-selling novel.


Welp, my bottle’s empty, and I’m about to puke, time to find the bathroom and call it a night.


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A {Heidi} photo Montag{e}.

It’s been an interesting week for Gizzy & I, and by that, I simply mean nothing is going on. We are just trying to get by, make the ends meet, just like every other single mom in this chauvinist world. For that reason alone, we wanted to take you on a journey. So come along, we’re all friends here. And so we present, A Day in Photos by Gizzy & Lucky.

{6:00 a.m.} Lucky’s alarm goes off and she immediately hates her life. Editor’s note: I just realized just HOW homosexual my alarm clock is with that cat sticker on it. No wonder I’m single.

{9:00 a.m} Lucky writes. At work, where she’s sat since 7:30 a.m.

{12:00 p.m.} Lucky eats the world’s cheapest lunch, while simultaneously pretending she’s in first grade again.

{2:30 p.m} Lucky reading at work. And about to rip into her afternoon snackie.

{5:15 p.m.} Lucky getting skin cancer in the tanning bed. Nothing like a pair of bronze tootsies!

{6:00 p.m.} Lucky at the store selecting a bottle of white to go with her dinner…and her bad attitude.

{7:30 p.m.} Lucky’s dinner is served: baked chicken, sweet peas, and white mac n’ cheese. Where’s the Mac-A-Weenie??

{9:00 p.m.} Lucky’s third glass of vino, while rotting her brain with Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.

{9:30 p.m.} Lucky telling her cat, O.J., that indeed she is drunk.

{10:30 p.m.} Lucky’s all out. Sad face.

{10:45 p.m.} Lucky’s bedtime. Time to face plant.

Now on to Gizzy’s day. …

(10:30am) Gizzy rolls out of bed and starts to get ready for her interview.

(12:30pm) Gizzy is driving to her interview.  This is what she imagines being colorblind to look like and also did this sepia tone for added mysteriousness.  Did it work?

(3:00pm) Gizzy is enjoying a snack with Bubby (Justin Bieber.)

(6:00pm) Gizzy is teaching Ella how to draw baby dolls, but hers looks more like a scary version of Kathy Griffen then anything.

(9:00pm) Gizzy is getting ready in a bathroom disguised as a fun house to go work with The Captain in Polar Bear form & Captain’s Crystal’s Bff, Witchie.

(12:00am) Gizzy is pouring shots for a bar with 20 people in it.

(2:00am) Gizzy is checking to see if Kelsey Grammer is online and wants to talk about her long day.

He is not.

(3:00am) Gizzy is tucked away in bed ready to snooze until 1pm tomorrow. (This is a reenactment. The views of this blog are not in any way associated or supported by these actors (pillows.))

Well, there you have it kids.  A day in the life of Lucky and Gizzy.  See, we’re normal.

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BUH-BYE Captain!

Guys I think I’m depressed.  I know I’m in a rut, but I think it’s getting worse.  Here’s how my day goes, I wake up around 10 (noon) and realize that I have a few hours before my roommates (mom & sister) get home.  So it’s like panic sets in and I think what do I need/want to do before they get home in 2 hours? Usually it’s laying in my bed doing nothing which is what I do all night too, but its like from the second I wake up the countdown starts of when they’ll be home.  I know this is all because I want to move out RULL bad so that I can come home from work and lounge around and do whatever the eff I want like I did in college.  And I don’t feel comfortable doing that at home, I feel like they’re all looking at me like GAWD look at that lazy sloth, has she even left the house in the past week? The answer is no, I have not.  Actually yes I did, to get taco bell and then it was BACK TO BED! Everybody is like oh you need to be productive BLAH BLAH BLAH.  Productive doing what? I don’t have errands to run.  Looking for jobs? I do that all goddamned day from my bed throne.  I can’t go interview until the people call me, and while they’re not calling me I’m sitting here eating laffy taffys and watching Kardashian and Jersey Shore repeats until I can recite every ooh and ahh in every episode.  Why don’t I get a gym membership and shut my lazy sloth mouth? Because gym memberships cost money and I don’t like to spend money.  Why don’t I get a part time job? I have one, it’s called slanging Captain Morgan!!  But Gizzy, that’s not a real part time job.  YES IT IS! I make $200 a week slanging Captain, which is more then I would make working at some joe schmo retail store.  Then I need to shut up and enjoy my last days of doing nothing before I get a real job and want to kill myself? Oook, I’ll try.

I finally told the Captain to fuck off and die.  Not really, but it’s coming! Yeah ok he was a hot piece of ass but he is an asshole and I’m about 90% sure he’s gay.  Two days ago he was telling me how awesome he thinks I am and how he wants to “get to know me” and not just have sex with me right? And I didn’t buy it and I also didn’t believe that him and Captain’s Crystal had really broken up.  Yesterday morning after Captain’s Crystal’s night o birthday fun I look at her facebook page and see this status:

Had a FANTASTIC BIRTHDAY!! The Captain sure knows how to spoil me! 🙂 Hot Tubs, Massages, Diamonds … what is this world coming to?!?! HAHA – off for Birthday Sushi with Dad! ♥♥

I knew that this was probably the case.  But I think I’m more surprised at the “Hot Tubs, Massages, and DIAMONDS” part, those are not signs of someone who is or has dumped their girlfriend.  AND WTF, DIAMONDS!? No man has ever gotten me diamonds, other than my father, or jewelry for that matter.  I must be horrible in bed.  Tell me, HOW DO I GET DIAMONDS!?!! So in honor of Lucky and single girls everywhere, I’m going to fuck with him 1 last time this weekend when we work together to really reel him in and show that douche WHAT THE FUCK IS UP then, I’m giving him THE FADE! BOOYAH BITCHES!

I really don’t think this jerk-off knows who he is messing with.  I single handedly turned all of Snoop-Linus’ friends against him and recruited them for Team Gizzy when he took Whore #3 on a date.  I have the power of persuasion.

So, I could tell Captain’s Crystal what he’s been up to, but I’m thinking why end the show early? You don’t go to an all you can eat buffet so you can have a salad and leave. If she’s stupid enough to have no clue what her boyfriend is up to when she’s not around he’ll strike again and the next girl probably won’t be as smart as me and get out while the gettin’ is good before it gets too messy, and I can sit back and laugh because I was the one who got away MWHAAHA.  Such a deviant awesomely awesome plan I have here. But what about girl code and she needs to know what he is doing behind her back!!? FUCK girl code, I say.  She wouldn’t leave him anyway.  What I’m thinking about is playing it cool and acting normal until the next time he invites me to do something then I’m going to storm in like a horny beast, rip his clothes off, tie him to the bed, blind fold him, take a picture for the blog and peace the fuck out and leave him there for Captain’s Crystal to find.  Naked and vulnerable.  BAHAH.  For real, I’m sick of guys thinking they can get away with this shit.  So my new official job/title shall be Miss Gisabelle P.I. saving the world one cheating asshole at a time.  Sounds pretty official.

And for old times sake since this will be my 2nd to last post about the Captain (the last one being how I reeled him in, it’s going to be so juicy I can’t wait) I have listed more contributing factors to why he is secretly gay:

-Left me a voicemail saying he was going tanning

-Gets really into cooking, got this text from him after I told him I needed some dinner: it’s all about creation and loving to do it, knowing a lot of tastes. You have to try a lot of nasty stuff in order to make something really good. Kind of like dating.

-He also likes to use analogies.

-He refers to himself as being a mix between new and old fashioned (on getting to know me before he sticks his wien in me)

-He doesn’t take advantage of drunk girls (Why the eff not?)

-He hangs out a little too often alone with his gay best friend and his gay best friend’s boyfriend.  I mean I love me some gays too, but that’s weird right?

So I went from 2 guys, back to no guys this week.  Meeting 100 guys for the 100th post is starting to look better and better.  I hope someone is coming up with a diet and work out plan for us after the 100th post because we are going to have to drink, A LOT, to pull that one off.  We’re also going to need that if we have to eat 100 chocolates.  I did the math to Lucky the other day (I don’t think she was as impressed with my skills as I was) and if we have to eat 100 godiva chocolates we’ll gain about 8 pounds each.  I’d kind of like to try it just so I can see how many chocolates it takes for my body to be on a chocolate overdose before it starts rejecting the chocolates to the point where it literally won’t let me swallow another chocolate.   Maybe we should’ve had an all of the above option on the poll? That would’ve been my vote. I think I’ll do them all anyway, what else do I have to do? It’s just subbing chocolates in for the laffy taffy.  Another day another dollar, no sweat off my back.

I’m also not opposed to giving out The Captain’s phone number for those of you who are into some late night sexting in order to sway your vote toward the option I want for the 100th post.  I mean for realzzzzz, let me know! Maybe you’ll get some pictures like….

So here we say our final goodbyes to the Captain, sianara asshole and a big SU-FI to you!

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