Tag Archives: cooking

To Gizzy’s house: part IV.

Ah, when we awoke the next morning it was the glorious 4th of July. AMERICA! ‘MERICA! As we proudly proclaimed all day long.

But my mood quickly changed from happy and celebratory to confused, and, well…more confused.

After we passed out the night before, Clay had sent me a text around 3 am wanting to know what I was doing. Since I was sleeping, I didn’t respond. Then at 9 am, he sent me a good morning text.

While I was reading the “good morning” text and sifting through some others, he sent me ANOTHER text saying this:

“U don’t have to ignore me you know. Asshole. Thats hypocritical of me sorry I was a dick but ur gender has yet to prove other than a vagina ur existence is not necessary. OK that was mean I’m sorry u r extremely attractive and I really have not stopped thinking about u can we try this again”

If you’re wondering, yes, that was all crammed into one text message and yet another example of Clay having a legit conversation by himself. Nothing like calling me an asshole and a member of a worthless gender and then wanting to meet up.  Picture me, cackling through this all. 

I replied back with a solid “well, good morning.” We had a weird conversation about how I wasn’t ignoring him per se I was just wary of getting involved with him because he had a girlfriend. To which he said…


Okay, douche, I don’t check Facebook every fucking day to see if you and your woman are together or not. Frankly, I don’t give a flying fuck.

Anyway, the dude was drunk, so Gizzy and I check Facebook to see what exactly happened. And this is the slew of Facebook statuses we see:

Ok I refuse to be with a whore, I am single, so ladies lets have fun.  I have only 3 weeks left lets do the damn thing and stop thinking about tomorrow.

I hate my life, and the stupid bitch that told me I was everything to her, that’s bullshit, where is she tonight? Not with me.  I hope your aborted children provide you with a supportive landing in hell.

Happy 4th LOL

Clay is going to establish alcoholism today being as my first beer was pounded at 8:39 you’re welcome now who will join me in celebrating our country’s birthday?

If whites only come out at night why do I drink during the day?

If whores only come out at night why do I drink during the day?

  • Comment: Jackie – are you drunk?
  • Comment: Clay – if you’re wondering if I’m drinking, yes, and if I’m drunk, yes, but if you say it like that it sounds uneducated.  All I’m doing is flushing my kidneys and destroying my liver if I could put this shit in an IV I would, because it would save me the time of putting my beer to my mouth and allow me to come up with awesome status updates even faster.
  • Comment: Jackie – I would’ve asked how you’ve been but it’s pretty clear.
  • Comment: Clay – it’s clear that your gender has castrated me for the last time, and I am no longer obligated to believe you thundercunts are nice people.  So why would I? Assholes finish first right? Fuck the world, I’m about to kick it down the escalator.

Whores are like fireworks, you only shoot them at night and yet at first they look innocent but after a few shots they explode on you causing pain if not careful.

  • Comment: Clay – happy 4th retards
  • Comment: friend – you’re on a roll today
  • Comment: Clay – give me some butter
  • Comment: Barb – clay be good
  • Comment: Clay- if by good you mean break the female gender down by targeting her weakest attribute and convincing her to sleep with me because she is emotionally unstable then yes I will be good and good at it.  Sorry miss lady you are excluded from this list because you have always been awesome to me and to everyone else love you so much.

 I was once told to be good or good at it.  Happy 4th retards.

When I asked Clay what happened with his ex to make him so upset he said, “She’s a cock juggling thundercunt.” Another AWESOME line that worked itself into our vocabulary the rest of the day.

Fair enough.

To celebrate such a glorious holiday, Gizzy and I put on our swimsuits and headed out looking for beer and anything festive. ‘MERICA! Well, we didn’t find anything festive, but we got the beer and some ice and packed them both into what Gizzy thought was a cooler, when it was really a large thermal container made for a damn crock pot.  Don’t knock it till you try it, that shit worked!

Whatever. We head to the beach and get in line for some junk food. After we scarf that down, we find a nice spot in the sand near plenty of hotties playing beach volleyball.  Hotties/douchers that I already knew from college.

We had already packed some vodka, so Gizzy got us some mixers and we had our way with them. And this is when I start trying to figure out just how many different places I can piss in public (twice in the water, once in the sand, and a few times in actual public view). “Public view” means hanging her ass off a dock to pee, and hanging it off of some steps/seats.  Someone had to know what was going on since I was doubled over laughing and every time she got up there were wet spots that magically appeared on the cement.  I’m not innocent though, the day of the block party we traveled through a maze so that I could take a pee in a parking garage, where our car was not parked.

When I was finished with my vodka, I started drinking the beer like it was my job. Didn’t want to have any leftovers! When the beer was gone, we made the weird decision to walk to where the fireworks were…which was a bit of a hike. I would venture to say at least 1.5-2 miles.  It took us a good hour and a half to get there, longer than it normally would have because we had to simultaneously stop to pee/take shots.  We completely got ready in a public bathroom and then start ripping shots straight from a bottle of vodka.  In public.  Infront of cops, and children.

We see the fireworks and keep walking to try and snag some dinner. However, there was a fuckload of people. Like literally people were shoving us trying to not let us in because they were all coming out. And then we ran into a saucy hostess who told us the restaurant closed at 10 pm and I accused her of calling us retards.  My absolute favorite convo of the weekend:

Us: Table for 2

Hostess:  Um we’re pretty full, we’re not seating anyone but you can stand here and wait, I’m not sure if we’re letting people in, we might stay open later.

Lucky: So ARE you staying open later?

Hostess: We’re not seating anyone right now

Lucky: Yeah, I heard you, we’re not retards

Hostess: I didn’t say you were

Lucky: Uh! Yeah, ya did!

Bitch.  So we head to a nice little italian place, and order our food and some vino.

Once we do sit down, we have some depressing conversation about missing people, (and I loudly shit talked the aliens next to us for staring at our drunk asses)  and we manage to catch a cab ride back home. However, the cab ride was nice and bumpy, and me being quite wasted, I knew I needed to barf. But it wasn’t anything emergency-related…I figured I had plenty of time. However, when I hand the cabbie my credit card, he says he has to turn the car off completely and restart everything.  Honest to god, it took half an hour.

I told him I needed to step outside and puke. And I did. On a tree. While people and dogs watched me.

But I felt worlds better.

Then Gizzy and I ran inside and busted into Anth’s room, only to find him sexting while in his bed. Typical.  Lucky asks if he’s naked and runs over and rips off the blankets.  I immediately scream, “DID YOU SEE HIS WEINER!?” she says no and we run squeeling out of his room.  He sent me a text the following morning thanking us for the wake up call and thanking himself that he wasn’t actually naked under his covers.  I told him that leaving the door unlocked is like inviting us into his room so idk what he expected.

The next morning was my last in town, and given all the airport drama the first go ’round, I wasn’t looking forward to heading back. However, Gizzy and I hit a few hot spots I had been wanting to see, we had a few beers and more junk food and we were on our way. We even ate lunch at our favorite place—Taco Bell. Holla!

Overall, an AWESOME visit!

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To Gizzy’s house: part III.

When we woke up the next morning (4th of July Eve), we were nice and hungover.

But that didn’t stop us from our original plans—hitting up the beach. so we put on our swimsuits and headed that way. Parking seemed to be an issue, so we ended up on the other side of the beach, but we found a little restaurant, and as long as they have Bloodys, it’s all good.  They even had little palm trees and Jamaican aluminum bongo music.  I felt like I was in the tropics.  Ahhh vacation.

Well they didn’t have bloodys. Or any alcohol. Why? Because the bartender was late to work. And HE is the only one who can make a drink, pour it, whatever.  I asked about our server pouring us a draft beer.  I know he can do it, because to bring us that beer he has to have a liquor license… that means he can effing pour it too.   He said no he couldn’t, because they’re on the beach there’s weird laws.  Lies.


Thank the high heavens he showed up to work shortly, because I was cranky.  When Lucky got her bloody she was able to precisely pin point the kind of Bloody mix they were using, it was not her fave.

As we waited, I was watching this lady across the restaurant who was eating an egg white omelet with fruit with a fork and knife. It was really pissing me off.  Only after it took her 35 minutes to take the first bite.

Anyway, after lunch, we wanted to catch a baseball game. So we got ready, and start trying to get a cab. Which doesn’t work until after we’d walked a good 15 blocks.

Once we get to the game, we find that it’s sold out and it’s already the 4th inning, so there are no scalpers.

Effin sweet! It seemed like nothing was going our way that day. Now that I look back, I should have insisted that we have a drink in one of the bars around the sadium, during the game the bars are almost just as fun as actually being there. But we were pissed.  I had heard about a block party going on, so we got back in the cab and headed that way. I prayed this would work out and at least we’d get a few beers.

And it was a success—the place was packed, but there was tons of food, beer, music, and free prizes—including Disney temporary tats that were freakin’ cool.  Not to mention we made a few friends and got a free cheese burger – which was… DA BOMB.  Hello 2002.

So we stay at this place until 6 or so, and we head toward the train station to catch a ride back. However, we find a cool little bar near the station and decide to continue our beer buzz with a round of brews and shots. I would say everyone has probably been to or seen the bar we stopped at.  Does The Tilted Kilt ring a bell to anyone?  Sometimes you can get lucky and you won’t have to look at a bunch of flubby nasty girls.  I mean neither Lucky or myself are into girls but if they’re going to be prancing around in their bra and underwear they can at least not make us want to hurl.  Anyway, this place had nasty fat tatted up girls.  Ugh.  So when we’re downtown near the financial district you can imagine that most of the guys aren’t looking for fat hedge hogs so idk what the deal was.

After that, we manage to get our drunk selves a seat on the train.

We get home, the guys are there, making all kinds of food on the grill, (supposively Anth made us hot dogs and we ate them??) but we then decide it’s absolutely necessary to put on the Disney tats, tramp-stamp style. So I put Gizzy’s on for her (all of the main Disney characters, holding hands) and she put mine on (pirates!).

Here’s mine: Best tat EVER!

We then joined the guys on the roof for some drinking games, a roast to the bachelor, and some AMAZING fireworks from a random person in the alley!

The fireworks were complete with floating lanterns JUST LIKE in Tangled.  I think I kept saying that every time they let another one go.  I don’t know how I have friends over the age of 6, I don’t know.

We mosied back down to the kitchen because I was craving some Cherry Garcia.  At this moment the bachelor and an old flame of mine who was in attendance, who is ALSO engaged wander into the room.  Some how it gets brought up that I didn’t get invited to either of their weddings, Lucky makes them feel like shit about it and tells them their wives must be insecure and they say because it’s because I’m attractive and it would make the bride feel bad or some bullshit.  I don’t know, it’s whatever.  That’s an argument/story for another day.

When this convo begins to fizzle another one of the guys from the party joins us.  A guy who Lucky and I had already written off because he was a big douche.  His name was Bill, he was the quarterback at our college, and he didn’t shower or change his clothes all weekend and Lucky and I told him he smelled.  He rebuttled by asking us to come out with them to which one of us made a snide remark saying we wouldn’t be caught dead near him and he basically called us ugly fat whores by saying, “Anyone who knows me would know as soon as they saw you two that you guys are NOT my type.”  Oh really? Well thin, cute, and funny must not be your type then, ass.

Later, more of the guys said they wanted to go out and we should join them. After a few minutes of persuasion, we bolt to Gizzy’s room, change clothes, and what? The guys are gone.

Lucky, remember when I called Anth and he didn’t answer?  He later told me that he was still at the apartment in his room changing.  Apparently he was left too and never went out.  I think it’s a good thing we didn’t go out with the 4 guys that actually went out.  Yikes.

Oh well, we walk down the street to a bar. There were all of five people inside, but the second we sit down, this chick comes up and introduces herself—meet Miranda. She has a boyfriend, but also a single guy in tow…yeah, he was kind of a loser.  I got her number, we were supposed to be friends because I have none and she was going to introduce me to all her single male friends, still hasn’t happened.  I don’t even think I could recognize her the beer goggles were so thick.

Anyway, she used her boyfriend’s credit card to buy us a round of shots, and Gizzy and I damn near slept on the bar. It was then we realized we’d been walking around (and drinking) since we woke up that morning. Miranda definitely thought we were lame, especially when we turned down her offer to late night when the bartender called last call.  I was tempted, because I think they said something about playing board games.  And I love board games, but in the adult world board games probably means snort crack so it’s probably good we didn’t go.

So, we walk back to Gizzy’s…


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This moment will be gone.

Perhaps you’re all wondering how my weekend in Houston went with my airport love, Matt?

Well, I made it there late Friday night—of course, it wouldn’t be right if I didn’t get stuck with a few travel delays, right? But Matt happily greeted me at his apartment with a “YOU’RE BACK!!” And promptly fixed me a Grey Goose and soda, with a fresh squeeze of lime.

I was nervous, but more so, very hungry.

He wasn’t sure what good place would be serving food at 10 p.m., but we hopped in his Jeep and headed to look. We stopped at the first place we saw—a trendy sushi spot. He knew I love sushi from the stories I told him about my trip to Gizzy’s house.

He, however, had never tried sushi, but said he was ready and willing. So, we went in, got a table and drinks (we drink the same thing…sigh).

He told me he would eat whatever rolls I picked out, so I picked several different ones and that was that. I showed him how to hold the chopsticks and we were ready to roll (hehe).

When the rolls came, we attacked, and I was so impressed with how he ate (and enjoyed) the raw stuff with the sticks, like a champ. From there, we went to a little mexican bar, but it was hosting a private party, so we were onto the next.

We each had a beer, but he wanted to go somewhere where there were more people. So we went to old faithful—the bar we went to last time. There, we had plenty of drinks and talked until the bar kicked us out. We talked about work some, talked about our families, and talked about how we met, once again.

We headed back to his apartment, where we made more drinks and sat on his couch watching the latest on Casey Anthony (Case Anth, as Matt likes to call her). And then, he turned my head and we kissed.

Ok, and then we made out.

I’m not sure how long we were there, but eventually he asked me if I was ready to go to bed. Since it was 3 am, I’d been up since 6:30, and had gone to bed the night before at 3:30 (had to see the midnight premiere of Harry Potter!), yes, I was ready to go to bed. But, of course I didn’t know if he meant “go to bed” as in, have sex.

Either way, we went to the bed, and continued making out. Naturally, clothes came off, and I was mentally prepped to just go for it…until…(as Trey says on Sex and the City) the sails died.

Umm…it was awkward. I rolled over and was ready to pass out, but Matt refused.

“No, no…this is not happening,” he said, getting up and putting his clothes back on. “Let’s go have another drink.”

I didn’t know what was going on, but I followed him back into the living room as he made another cocktail. I grabbed a beer and we sat on the couch. At his request, we played a game of 20 questions.

The questions were random, about jobs, family, first sexual encounter, dream city to live in, favorite foods, favorite brands, opinions on marriage…etc. We shared some pretty intimate things—I told him I was insecure about my family and I was scared I would never get married or have children. He told me he had just gone through a breakup “literally” just before he met me.

Red flag. And I was even more nervous.

But at 6:30 am, we decided to give up and actually go to sleep. In the morning, er, afternoon, we headed out to a pretty cool bar for brunch and bloody marys. He said he had a pretty bad headache, but I was feeling pretty good.

Although, since we had talked so much the night before, I wondered if we would have much to talk about that day, or for the rest of the weekend. After our delish meal, we headed back to his apartment, with plans to hang out at the pool.

However, once we got there his headache was still bothering him. He said he just wanted to lay down for a bit, so I kicked my shoes off and joined him in bed for a little nap. And another failed attempt at sex, of course. He blamed it on nerves, and I was nervous too, but I didn’t know if that was it or not.

So we went to sleep for a few hours—much needed nap. Luckily, when we woke up, the sun was still up and we went down to the pool with a cooler full of brewskies. There, we had a good time rehashing the evening, and people-watching…and talking about reality TV. All while slamming some beer. It was a good time.

We were trying to figure out what to do that night, as it was nearly 8 pm already. He was hungry, but didn’t want to drive since we’d already drank so much. I told him I would be happy with pizza or anything easy.

So we went inside and he said he was going to jump in the shower. I was digging through my purse when I heard him turn the water on, then he opened the door and asked me if I wanted to join him.

Sure! So I did—and it was a pretty hot shower (figuratively and literally) but, um, still no sex. Yeah, I was feeling pretty unattractive at this point.

After the shower, he asked if I was cool with a frozen pizza. Absolutely! So he made the pizza while I got myself looking halfway decent. The pizza was ready, and we found a movie on TV to rent, so he asked if I was cool with just hanging out.

“Oh yeah,” I said.

“You sure?” he said. “I hate that I don’t have more cool things planned for us.”

“No, seriously, I’m perfectly happy on the couch.” And I meant that. I’m not someone who has to go out every night to have fun. Besides, I was there to visit him.

Naturally, we both dozed off on the couch, but I eventually woke up and asked him if he was ready for bed. He said yes and we got into bed. But, as I dozed off, he got up. I heard him go into the bathroom and then into the living room and turn the TV back on.

I was a little worried, so I got up to see what was going on. When I opened the bedroom door, he was on the couch, wearing his glasses (looking sexy) and typing on his laptop.

“Whatcha doing?” I asked.

“Working…I couldn’t sleep,” he said. “What are you doing?”

“Seeing why you left me alone…”


I turned and went back to bed, leaving the door open. I laid there, wondering if he really couldn’t sleep or if he was upset with me, or if he was not having a good time, or if he was frustrated at the failed sex…

He eventually came to bed, but didn’t touch me. In the morning, he moved closer, but it just didn’t feel the same.

When we got up, he offered to make me breakfast and I happily accepted—two fried eggs and raisin toast! So yummy, and sweet.

Before long, I packed up my things and left. I didn’t want to overstay my welcome. And I didn’t even know if I was welcome anymore. Our goodbye was as casual as our hello—a hug and a simple kiss on the cheek.

When I got home Sunday night, he sent me a text to make sure I made it.

And I haven’t heard from him since.

(“To Gizzy’s house” will continue tomorrow…)

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Scum of the Earth (Part 2)

Last time we left off with Gigi informing me that my ex Snoop-Linus was trying to hook up with my Ex-friend Mercedes.  So, I made it for my mission for the night to find the hottest guy possible to hook up with…

We were at bar #1 for about 20 minutes when fight #1 between Gigi and her boyfriend broke out.  (Side note:  It is now my STRONG belief that boyfriends and girlfriends should not be drinking in social atmospheres together.  Dinner with friends where you don’t get up from the table? Ok! College bars? Not ok.) I was in the bathroom during the initial exchange of words, but when I got back Gigi was ready to roll out and no one else was coming with us.  Of course I couldn’t be a shitty friend and be like oook vagina blocks are gone lets get this party started! and had to suck it up and sit outside bar #1 and hear the sob story of why they were fighting (girl he hooked up with before they were together was within the 4 walls of the bar, not hanging out with them, or talking to him, crazy.)

Eventually we made it to bar #2 where upon entering a group of guys approached us and asked if we would hypothetically fuck their friend under the right circumstances.  HELLO! I didn’t want to sound like a slut, but this was EXACTLY what I was looking for!  I started giving said guy my sexy (drunk) eyes and licking my lips while his chatty friend wouldn’t shut up about how Gigi’s legs are a mile long and how she should be a runway model for Alexander McQueen.  Hold the bus.

Lets restate everything he just said and emphasize the important parts…

Asked if we would hypothetically fuck their friend under the right circumstances.  His chatty friend wouldn’t shut up about how Gigi’s legs are a mile long and how she should be a runway model for Alexander McQueen.

Is anyone else’s gaydar going off?

After he name dropped Alexander McQueen I checked out and ordered us a round of shots, and when I say us I mean me.  I ordered 4 and drank 4 all to myself.  I whip back around to hear, “Ahh if we weren’t gay we’d totally fuck the shit out of you girls.  Loves you!” Goddamnit, it’s true.  

After they walked away Gigi went back into depression mode.  “See gay guys think I’m hot, why can’t my own boyfriend appreciate me?!” And drug me over to the corner to hear more about how having a boyfriend is just soooo hard.  About that time here came Gigi’s boyfriend and his friends.  They tell us they are going back to his apartment and they’ll see us tomorrow.  It was 2:15 and I decided any chance I had at meeting a guy at that hour who wasn’t going to barf on me was slim to none.  I told Gigi that we should walk to taco bell and go back.  So we did, as we’re rounding the corner to her apartment she decided we needed to keep walking and go to her boyfriend’s.

We walk in and him and his friend are playing halo, Gigi sits down and immediately gets pissed that he’s not paying us any attention (mind you, it was also her boyfriend’s birthday) and says, “Fuck you assholes, we’re leaving.”  So off we go.  ALSO mind you, Gigi doesn’t have a phone and thus begins the fighting via MY PHONE.  They fought on the phone about nothing important for upwards of 2 hours until they finally drunkenly ended the relationship.  I love my friend to death, but thank god I couldn’t take it anymore, now I can get some sleep and dream about all the ass I’m not getting.  Nope.  Then Gigi sobs to me for another 2 hours first about her boyfriend which then turns into how her 4 best friends from high school are neglecting her and how no one bought her a birthday cake and god knows what else.  Sometime around 7am she finally decided she was all cried out and we went to sleep.  

At 8:24am her boyfriend starts non-stop calling my phone because why? They are supposed to leave at 10am to go on his birthday camping trip and need to go to the store before hand to get supplies.  I get up and tell her he’s calling, she waves her hand away so I take that as she doesn’t want to talk to him and go back to sleep.  30 minutes later she wakes up scrambling around and calls him back.  They fight for another 2 hours now about how he can’t remember what they were fighting about the night before, and then they decide they should meet up to fight and start to fight about whose place they should fight at.  Like really? I kind of wanted to die.  They break up again and Gigi says he can go on the camping trip alone.  Before she can get emotional/call him again I interject with a, “Heyyy lets go get some breakfast, that will make you feel better!” Honestly, if I didn’t get food in me ASAP I was going to be ralphing grade D beef, hot sauce, and tequila down my shirt.  We did and on the way Gigi FINALLY realized she was being a bitch because it was his birthday after all and decides to call him and invite him to breakfast.  Of course he doesn’t want to go, because who would? And they decide they will get together to fight when we’re done eating.  Post breakfast we walk over to his place, his friend and I pop Bad News Bears into the DVD player and pass out on our separate futons to be awoken 2 hours later by a back together Gigi and boyfriend.  Gigi takes me back to her place so I can slit my wrists and go home and tells me this is pretty typical of them when they drink.  Shit, I’d either be not drinking or breaking up.  That fight exhausted me and I was only an innocent bi-stander.  

So there you have it, another weekend of no action and another weekend to add to the 14 month dry spell.  If I stop posting and responding to comments all together it’s probably because I got arrested for selling it on the street.  Forrrr a nickel.

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Scum of the Earth (Part 1)

I had my big weekend back at SHIT U this past weekend and it was pretty blahsville.  I didn’t get laid, run into HOTTIE, or even get a make out from a stranger.  All thumbs point to down.  But as always, SHIT U didn’t fail to deliver the drama dramz we all know and love.  

As soon as I walked in Gigi’s door Friday night she told me to sit down because she had some news and I needed to brace myself for it.  She started telling me about how Wednesday night she had to work with Mercedes in a city near where Snoop-Linus lives…  

First, I need to update everyone on my non-friendship with Mercedes.  I just dug through our archived posts and realized I never informed everyone of the demise of our friendship.  Back in November she sent me a shitty text, I can’t remember verbatim what it said but it was something along the lines of saying I should get back together with Snoop-Linus because we deserve each other.  She had told me on a work outing that one of his friends told her he had cheated on me upwards of 10-15 times.  At the time we had only been broken up about 4 months and I still wanted to know the truth so of course I confronted him about it.  Several months later it got back to Mercedes that I had confronted him what she said and of course he denied it.  She got pissed and sent that text, and also sent a text saying, “Mercedes out.” Thank god for that.

I never replied,un-friended her and all of her accomplices on facebook, and didn’t hear from her directly until a few weeks ago. Sometime in January/February she told Snoop-Linus I knew all his passwords when we were dating and that’s how I found everything out, which of course caused a confrontation between Snoop-Linus and myself. Then a few weeks ago she sent me the following facebook message:

hey. i know this is random, but i need my original sims disk back. my current game keeps freezing so i think i need to reinstall it, not to mention theres a new expansion pack coming out at the end of the month, need to have my shit under control by then. pleeease if you still have it, mail it to 1234 Main Street. and let me know if you dont so im not anxiously awaiting the mail lady. thanks!

I hate bitches who think they can do me wrong and then come back 6 months later and expect me to be like, OH YA NO PROB HERE YA GO FRIEND.  No.  I didn’t reply.  I know what you’re all thinking (especially Lucky) why didn’t I block her on facebook from the get go?  Well I should have, but after I un-friended her she blocked me and you can’t block people who have blocked you.  After the time lapsed and the new expansion pack came out she re-blocked me so it’s back to pretending each other don’t exist.  This story is getting more pathetic as I go on now talking about facebook blocking and the SIMS.  Christ.  

Anyway, back to the original story… so Mercedes is now pretty much my arch nemesis and her and Gigi were headed up to Snoop-Linus’ neck of the woods last week for work.  On the way there Mercedes starts to tell Gigi about how Snoop-Linus has been calling and texting her on the reg trying to hang out with her, telling her if she’s ever up there to hit him up so they can go out and party, and basically putting in some phone time so that she’ll feel comfortable letting him get in her pants.  That’s how I took it anyway.  

Gigi being the pot-stirrer that she is, she instructs Mercedes to text Snoop-Linus and tell him she will be in town.  So she does and instead of texting her back he immediately calls her.  Mercedes answers and Gigi says the convo went down on speakerphone and Snoop was all, you should score us a hotel room and we can go out and get crunk (I am ashamed that I ever dated someone who talks like this) and then go back to the room after.  Mercedes was all, well I don’t know I have to work but I’ll let you know when I get off.  So that was that.  Then Gigi said on their way home Snoop was doing the crazy girl call and calling Mercedes like every 5 minutes trying to see if they were going to meet up.  Mercedes didn’t answer and Gigi informed her I was going to find out about this so to prepare herself for any lashings that might come her way.

Gigi told me and while yes it is typical of Snoop-Linus to do this and something new I can add to my list of shitty things he’s done to me, I can honestly say I don’t give a flying fuck.  They can hook up, get drunk, date, even get married, and have kids for all I care.  They’re both the scum of the earth and I want nothing to do with either of them ever again.  Shit, I even encourage this! Ex-boyfriend Scum of the Earth meet Ex-friend Scum of the Earth, now go have Scum of the Earth babies and rot in hell.

That whole incident didn’t anger me as much as it gave me the mindset of now I really need to get laid tonight so he is not the last person I slept with.  I went out with a mission, informed everyone we were with of my mission and had 8 extra eyes helping me scope the scene for hot men.

To be continued…

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I am not the doctor.

If you thought my Saturday was interesting, there’s a whole ‘nother day of the weekend I have yet to share.

And because I am now suffering from a chest cold and can apparently sleep for 10 hours and still be tired, this is the first time Gizzy is hearing it, too. Aren’t you all so special?

When I wokeup Sunday morning, I was ready for John to get the hell out of my bed and I could get on with my day. I had two things planned: 1. Pool, and D. Make a tater salad for the work party.

John asked me about said plans, and I told him just that.

“Well is that going to take all day?” he asked.

Yes, yes in fact it will, is what I wanted to say. But I didn’t. I just said I didn’t know. Which brings me off-topic. Why can’t I just freaking say what’s in my head? I blame it on The Ex.

Anyway, he said he was hoping to take me to lunch after he ran a few errands. I said okay.

So we went to lunch. And it was there, sitting at the table, that he really started to annoy me. He told me three stories back-to-back about him and his friends and their fishing experiences during a trip to Mississippi. I wanted to bang my head on the table. There he was, cracking up at some story about a water moccasin, and I was shoving fries into my face just to stay interested.

Finally, it was time to go, and he dropped me off and left without me having to makeup some excuse about being busy.

I had been texting with Clay and we decided to meet up at the pool again. So there we were, sippin’ on brewskies and talkin’ shit. So I asked him what was up with his girlfriend. And he said he didn’t really know, they were always off-and-on. I put him in the same category as JBelt and kept drinking the poison.

So we get in the pool. And he kisses me.

Oh, to be a player. Kiss one guy in the morning, and another in the afternoon.

We drink his entire cooler of beer and he wants to know what we’re going to do afterward. I tell him I still need to go to the grocery to get my fixings for the tater salad. So he he’ll come with me and we can pick up dinner.

So, we go back to my apartment, put his shirt in the dryer…and naturally other clothes come off while we wait.

I honestly didn’t think I was that drunk, but considering what happens next, I just might have been.

He carries me to my bedroom and I can already foresee the awkward conversation that we’re about to have—because I was on my period. DAMN.

Now, I’ve never had a one-nighter (in this case a one-afternooner) so I was planning to avoid the sex thing entirely. But, I will say, this kid is hot. We’re talking ripped stomach, tall, tan, huge arms, and the whitest teeth you’ve ever seen.

So we’re on my bed, stripping the remaining garments, and I tell him the bad news. He looks at me like I’m an idiot, proceeds to get us both naked, and THEN, he treats me to a bartle & james, DESPITE what I had just told him. GOD SEND.

I decided I should return the favor. So I do. Then, I come up for air, and ask him how he feels about Pop Rocks included into the mix. Where did that come from? No clue. But alas, I had strawberry Pop Rocks in my pantry (I swear I’m not a slore) and I went for it.

If you’ve never tried it, I would suggest it. I don’t think it really makes a huge difference for the guy, but it sure is mighty tasty.

So we continue to fool around a bit longer—and then, the scene from Sex & the City happened. Where Miranda is hooking up with her running buddy and he goes in for tossing her salad and she’s kind of freaked out by it.

Well I’ve never had a guy do it, until now, and it was sort of nice…until he tried to put his dick in my ass.

Obviously I couldn’t see what exactly happened back there—but it wasn’t the funnest thing in my life, I immediately let out an “OW,” which ended that sherade. And yeah, my ass hurt all day Monday and I was terrified to poop.

But don’t worry kids, all is good over here. I figured he would bolt afterward, but he still wanted to accompany me to the grocery. So we picked up a pizza, a movie, and the tater salad ingredients and had a lovely evening. And he stayed over.

It was a random, random few days.

I hope my wild streak has ran its course…well, for the time being.

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Happy 1 Year Anniversary… To Us!!!

Well it seems as though Lucky and I have a little baybayy that is 1 year old tomorrow.  The blog!  That’s right, tomorrow we will have a special Saturday post, it will be very very serious (not really) about where we were a year ago versus today and where we expect to be a year from now.  A lot has changed!! Anyway, go us… this is the greatest anniversary either of us have had.

So, I called in sick today at work AND skipped boot camp.  I’m such a lazy piece of shit.  Really though, the next few months at my job are about to get straight up cray cray, so they say.  Yesterday they told me from June 1 to September 30th is the busy time and no one is allowed to take off work.  Well Lucky is coming to visit over her birthday and the 4th of July so I told them I was taking a day and a half off while she was here and they’d just have to suck it.  They said a day and a half was fine but no longer.  Fine, assholes.  So I called in sick today.  Mwhahaaaa! Have to use up my time somehow.  We have the whole “use it or lose it” policy.  And the only perk to this job is time off.  I’ve worked there 4 months and already have 2 weeks of time off accrued.  But I can’t take anything but sick days until June 18th, my 6 month anniversary.  And now they tell me really I can’t take anything until September 30th.  Well OKAY! Come September 30th I’m going to have to take a month and a half off so that I don’t lose all my vacation.  Fine by me.  But it’s whatever.  So today is my Gizzy day.  

On my day off, I plan to pack my bag for home and trash my room at the apartment.  JM is having a bachelor party of 12 guys this weekend stay at our place.  No offense to him, but I don’t want any drunk fool thinking they can come crash on my bed and pee/semen it, whatever it is drunk guys do in their sleep.  Disgusting.

My plan:

Strip my dungeon & bed of any sheets, blankets, pillows, and anything soft that they think they could potentially pass out on. Then, I’m going to take apart my closet and throw my clothes on hangers all over my bed along with some totes and other items.  If someone wants to sleep on my bed with no pillows and no blankets they’re going to have to work to get to it.  It’s pretty pathetic that this is what I have to do, but I guess that’s how living with inconsiderate guys goes.  It just sucks I can’t lock my curtains.

Not to mention JM is moving out in a week, so of course he won’t care if they trash anything and damage our apartment.  I’m honestly scared to what I will come back to on Monday.  SPEAKING OF, I get this email from Anth the other day about the whole “roommate situation”:

What do you want to do about next month’s rent? Tim definitely will not have his mind made up yet and I don’t think his lease is up until like August.  So do you want to move upstairs until he moves in, Gizzy? Not sure how else we could do it.

This is really starting to irritate me.  I thought Tim’s decision was made that’s why I was getting the boot?!!!!! UGHH!!!!! I agreed to it but told them I would NOT be paying the same amount that JM pays for the room because I am getting screwed.  And if Tim decides he wants to move in two weeks from now he can forget it.  I will move out at the end of August and only at the end of August.  I hate men, or boys rather.  And, I’m NOT paying a security deposit, and I’m NOT cleaning up after anyone else ANY. MORE. 

Now that I have sufficiently wasted 10 minutes of everyones day complaining about my life, I’ll get off my rant and leave everyone to have a mediocre Friday.  See you bright and early for the anniversary special!!! Why don’t we have a reality show?

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