Tag Archives: drinking

Gizzy’s Christmas Letter

Since I’ve been MIA for about, oh forever, I figure you guys might like a little update on what’s going on in my life besides being a dumpee victim. So here I give you my Christmas-esk letter about all the other stuff.

Dear Family, Friends, Colleagues, and People I don’t know:

I hope this letter finds you well. As you know, in the past 6 months my life has done a 180 and back again. It’s been a weird ride, hopefully for the better but we’ll find out when this transitional phase in my life is over.

My new job near hometown is awesome. I really have no complaints, I mean working with numbers kind of sucks donkey but I couldn’t ask for a better office atmosphere. Basically take the complete opposite of my job in the big city times that by 10, douce it in glitter, have Elton John sing about it, and you’ve got my new job. My department is comprised of all women (13 of us), which you might think would be a lot of drama, but it’s not at all, most of them are older and hysterical. When my alma mater played the nearby University that everyone cheers for in basketball, they decorated my office space in streamers, banners, and memorabilia of their team, and interrupted me with the fight song every time I opened my mouth that day. My original plan was to take this job because it was a permanent position and keep it until I could find something permanent in the branch of the company I had originally started out in. But now I like working with these ladies so well, and they’ve honestly brought me out of my social anxiety shell, that I might just stay forever. They like to have office parties, literally every other week, and it’s awesome. At first I was like, okay are we ever going to do work around here? But now I love it and can’t wait until the next one – which happens to be my birthday celebration. Aside from Lucky and my family, no one has ever done anything special for my birthday, hell my co-workers in the Big City didn’t even know when my birthday was (assholes). But as soon as these guys found out my birthday was approaching they scheduled a party planning meeting where they asked me what my favorite types of foods were, what I didn’t like to eat, what my favorite colors are, and what theme I wanted (I picked Princess theme, because why the eff not? I will absolutely wear a sparkly tiara and fluffy dress for the day and I will rock the shit out of it). For the first time since I turned 21 I’m actually excited for my birthday.

And since I’ve started working there, I’ve discovered that if you go to graduate school at that nearby University that my office happens to be partnered with, if you can get in, you go for free. Getting an MBA has always been a big goal of mine, so I did all that riff-raff to apply, got accepted, and will be starting graduate classes this summer. I meet with my academic advisor Friday morning to schedule my classes – eck! So, for right now I’m pretty stoked, come July and August when I’m balancing school and work I’ll probably feel different but ya know, whatevs.

I signed up to run two 5Ks this summer, one supporting epilepsy research in honor of my sister (Team Ella!) and one that’s just for fun where there’s lot of beer at the end, I hope to run a mini-marathon or tough mudder race in the fall (if I don’t die of exhaustion before then).

Aside from that, I’m up to the same old shenanigans. I still like drinking beer, cussing like a sailor, watching trashy tv, and sitting on my couch. Some things never change.

Happy Holidays!

Gizzy

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Why I’m better off only having 2 friends

I decided to “work through lunch” yesterday and take 45 minutes to share what happened this past weekend.  First let me say, it was bad.  And by bad, I mean B-A-D BAD. 
 
A few weeks ago mine and Nutter Butter’s old roommate, Chuck, invited us both to come to the Big City with her and her friends to celebrate her birthday.  Since my departure from the Big City was merely 5 months ago, I’m still not ready to go back, because it sucks ass there.  So I declined for the both of us, and said we’d get together some other time.  She came back at me saying she’d be going out in her city Saturday night and we should come for that.  Her city is only an hour away, so there was no getting out of it.
 
Friday night NB came to my city and we had decided that on Saturday we’d make the trip up and go out with Chuck and Gigi.  I don’t know if I’ve ever elaborated on the type of person Chuck is, so I’ll do that now.  She’s really fun, like always gets the party going, but aside from that she kind of sucks.  She’s the baby of her family and has NEVER done anything for herself.  When I lived with her it was a constant battle to get her to clean up after herself because, “I’m from a prominent community, and my stay at home Mom cleans up after me.” Yeah.  She is also one of those people that you can’t depend on staying at her place if you’re visiting and supposed to be hanging out with her, because 99% of the time she will leave you and go home with a guy and then not answer her phone.  It’s always her way, like you are going where she wants to go, or she’ll leave you – that type of stuff.  NB and I were both fully aware that all of the above could and probably would happen, but we couldn’t have ever dreamt how bad it would actually be.
 
We arrived at Chuck’s place, Gigi and her friend Jules not far behind us. Our first stop was Chuck’s sister’s house to pick her up and to take a few shots, the next stop was an ugly Christmas sweater party at one of Chuck’s friend’s/NB’s frat brother’s house.  That was all going great, and everyone was having a blast until Gigi and Jules got wasted.  When Gigi gets drunk she becomes a different person – like an incoherent-fall-down-drunk-repetitive-bat-shit-crazy-back-and-forth-whirlwind-of-emotions talking kind of person, and that’s exactly what happened.  For your convenience I have noted her emotions throughout the remainder of the post.  Not 30 minutes into the party her and Jules were saying they wanted to leave and go to the bars (Angry), even though there were copius amounts of free booze and hot guys for them to scam on everywhere.  So that was all I heard for the next hour, then Gigi decided that people at the party were talking about her, which wasn’t happening at all.  I heard, “That guy is from my high school and he keeps looking over here being like, yeah that Gigi, she’s here, Gigi.” (Paranoid) Nonsense. I tried over and over to tell her that no one cared that she was there and to just have a good time.  Then Jules barfed.  Everywhere. I mean, really? It was like 10 o’clock, oh and we’re in our mid-20’s – how does this happen? So we called her a cab and sent her home.  1 trainwreck out of the way.
 
Gigi still wouldn’t let up about the bars, so in an attempt to save our sanity we all agreed to go.  We walked the whole 5 blocks there, Gigi falling down every 10 steps and we finally got in line at the bar.  We were all inside the bar when I looked around and realized Gigi wasn’t with us, so NB and I turned around and walked back out just in time to see her arguing with a bouncer and him refusing to let her in. I look at her waving her ID in the bouncers face and grabbed her in time to see that she was actually showing him her library card.  We pulled her away from the line and she started crying (Sad), saying they didn’t give her any time to get her ID out and look at the mess in her purse (which was packed full of receipts and other micellaneous items), and why couldn’t he just give her 5 seconds to find her ID?
 
The three of us decided to go to the bar next door and have a drink and then try again to get Gigi into the bar that everyone else was at.  So we sat down at a table, and NB and I ordered drinks – Gigi wasn’t paying attention so I told the waitress she didn’t need anything.  Then she got mad at me (Angry), saying her choice of drink was not my decision, so I was all, “Fine! Order something if you want it then.” But the waitress brought her a water instead. Then she proceeded to recite a speech she had prepared in the event that NB and I ever get married (Happy) – which was actually really funny.  Then 2 seconds after that, and 1 second after the waitress brought our drinks she was hounding us to finish them so we could go back to the other bar (Annoyed).  In a feeble attempt to get really drunk, we chugged the drinks and got up.  All the while, I was texting Chuck telling her to let me know if they went somewhere else and we’d be back soon when Gigi could get into the bar.
 
So we finally made it into the bar everyone else was at, just in time to find out that Chuck and her sister had left us and didn’t tell us, even though I specifically asked 156 times that if they left that bar to let us know and we’d come out and meet them.  So I texted Chuck to ask where they were, she said headed back to her sisters.  Awesome. A small $27 cab ride away.  So NB, Gigi, and I piled into a cab and headed to Chuck’s sister’s.  Once we got there, I was pissed and sober, NB was pissed and sober, and Gigi was still drunk. Chuck then informed us that she was just going to stay at her sister’s because her car was near there and she didn’t want to pay for a cab back to her place (another $20).  Gigi was curled up on the couch with a blanket (Done-finally) and NB and I were looking around wondering what part of the hardwood floor we should sleep on with no pillow and no blanket. Chuck and her sister started getting ready for bed and then all hell broke loose.  Chuck’s sister started screaming at the top of her lungs, “WHAT THE FUCK!? WHO THE FUCK BROKE THIS?!!!” And comes barrelling out of the bathroom and gets in mine and NB’s faces with a coffee mug that has a chip out of the top of it.  She went on and on for about 10 minutes waving the mug in our faces cussing and accusing, while Chuck begged her to stop. When she finally shut up for 2 seconds we politely informed the psycho that neither of us had been in her bathroom, but Jules (the barfer) had been earlier that night so she needed to back the fuck off.  At that point NB and I decided to pay the money for the cab back to Chuck’s, so we called a cab and waited 2 hours for it to show up.  When the cab finally got to Chuck’s sister’s at 4:47am, there was peace.
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It’s that time of the month

Breathe in… and out… in… out.  I just reserved mine and Lucky’s hotel for VEGAS!!! That’s right, May 12-15th be there or be square and I am having to do breathing exercises to calm myself down from it.  What? You’re right; those are different dates than originally planned.  But I’ll let Lucky vent about the date change whenever she feels ready.  Also I’d like to apologize for my lack of posting and for the shortness of this post, my life is pretty boring (with the exception of going to see Lucky and our 5 day drinking binger) and I really don’t have much on my mind other than sleep, eat, and Vegas.

But today, let’s talk just a little about how all the men in my life are on their periods. Seriously.

Anth has had his panties in a twist for the past 3 weeks about St. Patrick’s Day. In The Big City St. Patty’s day is a big deal, there’s a parade, there’s festivities, and everyone gets really wasted.  Anth takes it upon himself to find a bar every year that has a drink deal and tries to force all of his friends to get tickets.  Usually people comply, but I don’t like to be told what to do, and I also don’t like buying a ticket to go out drinking a month in advance.  You know? Shit comes up and I don’t want to be out $30 if I can’t make it to the bar on said holiday. So, Anth has asked me every single day for the past 3 weeks if I have gotten my ticket yet for the bar, and every day I gave him the same answer: No.  There was a time when I wanted to invite High School Crush to come up, because it worked out that all of the people going to the St. Patty’s Day festivities in our group were couples, then I decided I didn’t want to do that.  And now I just don’t want to go because Anth is being so annoying about it.

Then, I came home from Lucky’s the other day and he started an all out BBM argument over St. Patrick’s Day.  Yes, Anth is fighting with me about a drinking schedule.  He went off about how I should just tell him that I don’t want to hang out with them because we’re all grown up’s and they can handle it.  It’s not that I don’t want to hang out with that group of people per say, it’s that I don’t want to be the 13th wheel in a group of a couples that will get drunk and ultimately be all over each other at the end of the day.  Like my life is depressing enough, I don’t need to be around that.

After I thought about the things he was saying it made a little more sense, some other comments he made were, “Why don’t you like me?” “Why don’t you like to hang out with me” etc.. etc.. Since Anth has started dating his girlfriend we really don’t hang out at all.  I’m okay with it, but apparently he isn’t, hence him trying to force me to go to St. Patty’s day to be their 3rd wheel.  Thanks, but no thanks.

Then there’s High School Crush.  Sigh.  We were to a point where we were talking pretty much every day.  It was nice.  But it was still through text, we’d talk about hanging out, but no concrete plans were ever made.  The whole distance thing seemed to still be holding him back, yada yada yada same old tune.  Then this week the texts just kind of stopped.  I’m not freaking out about it; that just uses up way too much energy.  And if it stops for a while? Fine. I’m  out of texting subjects at the moment anyway. I’m just going to blame it all on these boys having their periods.

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Bootified

Is errybody so happy it is FRIDAY!? I am!!

I’m real tired, last night I went out in the big city with Deena.  I knew it was a bad idea when she suggested it, and even though I only had 1.25 beers and was in bed before midnight (my usual bedtime) I’m still tired as all get out.

The night was pretty fun, although I’m starting to realize more and more that I’m just not a good time in social settings unless I am waste face.  The whole time I was standing in the first 3 crowded bars we went to I kept trying to think of excuses I could use to go home and lay in my bed (that didn’t include, “I’m missing Jersey Shore right now”, the REAL reason I wanted to go home).  The bars were hot, there were people everywhere, and drinks were getting spilled all over my suede booties.  Not ok. 

You see, High School Crush and I often talk about my suede booties, for they are my lucky booties.  I don’t know if it’s the fact that they make me really tall, make me look super thin and hot, the fact that they are just really cool looking, or maybe it’s just that I call them booties and he thinks it’s funny, but for whatever reason my booties are his BFFFL.

At the Christmas party, HSC and I were standing at the bar and he was asking me what I thought of his new loafers and he rose up his foot to show me.  When I noticed they had fur on the inside I gasped and said, “Well do they have zipper or do they tie or at least have a place to put your pennies?” and he was all… no, they just slide on, no pennies.  And I was all, oh you’ve been fake loafed, those are slippies.  No one likes to get fake loafed, so he was upset obvi, and demanded to see my shoes:

Bootied.  I couldn’t find the picture of my exact booties, but these are pretty close, instead of the ruffles in the middle mine have a giant oversized suede bow.  Super cute. Of course when I showed HSC the booties, I could see it in his eyes that he thought the booties were like the best shoe ever made, but he played it off all cool and was like, “Yeah ok I like those.”  But now they are kind of a running joke and have taken on a life of their own. 

When we met up at the festival a few weeks ago, we had hardly broken away from our hello hug when he asked why I wasn’t wearing the booties.  I had to be like, “Well it’s raining, and we’re walking a lot, so you know – it’s not the place for the booties.” He seemed upset, but I was like meh, whatever, the booties can’t always make an appearance that would make them less cool. 

But now I kind of think he likes the booties more than he likes me.  Last week when I was sick and told him I was going to OD on Nyquil and rom com’s to make myself feel better, the next day he asked how the booties were doing, and I was like oh they’re fine, but me? I’m dying, thanks for asking.  When I told him I was going out last night to meet a friend for drinks he asked if I’d be taking the booties along and when I said yes he was like, “Oh they’re going to have a great time!” What about meeeee? What about my great time? I take those damn booties where they go! They’d be nothing without me. 

He hasn’t asked yet today if the booties had a good time last night, but when he does I’m going to have to break it to him that they got spilled on last night and are now sporting a lovely jizz looking stain, right on the bow.  Booties got bow jizz.

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It started with a kiss

It’s here! The recap of my Saturday with High School Crush that you’ve all been waiting for!  If you kept up with the live twitter updates you already know a little bit of what happened, and if you didn’t and still want a spoiler – check da twitter! I’m only slightly embarrassed that I was having what may be known as the best night of my twenties and I was tweeting about it as it was happening.  It’s fine.

Now that it’s over and we actually hung out and I don’t have to worry about jinxing it, I can tell you the whole story of how our plans came to be. 

So, my friend Polly just moved back to our hometown from the coast so I had asked her if she wanted to join me in going to a festival on Saturday in our state’s capital, about 45 minutes away from our hometown, but a 3 hour drive for me.  She accepted and because Polly is also friends with Betty, I felt inclined to invite Betty along as well.  Betty had originally said she would go, then a few days later changed her mind because she had her daughter and the weather wasn’t going to be that nice.  At this point she invited Polly and I over to have a sleepover with her and her daughter after the festival.  Knowing Polly and I would be drinking heavily at the festival and also knowing Betty puts her kid in bed at 7 o’clock and there was no way we’d make it to her house to have a sleepover before that time I told her I’d check with Polly and get back to her.  Polly kind of laughed it off so I never really gave Betty an answer. 

At this point since we would be sans Betty and her kid I decided that I would see if High School Crush would be driving in for the festival, and he said he would come back for it and we could meet up.  Hooray!  A few days later Betty changed her plans again and said she would come to the festival and bring her live in dbag boyfriend and kid.  Really, I love Betty and her kid, the boyfriend I could take or leave, but the festival atmosphere wasn’t really kid friendly and Betty said she had plans earlier that day and would make it back to her house around 4.  I knew already this would be trouble.  The festival was about a 20 minute drive from Betty’s, parking would be a problem, so by the time we got down there and started enjoying it, it would easily be 5 o’clock, then we’d have to leave at 6 to put her kid to bed.  No thanks.  So I left it with Betty as just a, “Yeah just let us know when you get home and we can meet up.”  Not only would we have to wait around all day on Betty, but that would also mean HSC would have to hang out with her kid, which is weird for a dateish thing.  I’ll elaborate more on this later in the week, because it was like drama city with Betty all day/night on Saturday.

The day of the big event rolled around and Polly came to pick me up around 3:30.  I had already talked to High School Crush and he was at the festival with his friends ready to meet up.  Polly and I got there, saw a few things we wanted to see then headed to the bar to meet up with HSC. 

Seriously guys, I was so nervous.  Like I could’ve crapped out my stomach it was in so many knots.  At this point, I really didn’t know what us hanging out meant. I still wasn’t even sure if liked me in the way I like him, if he was just being polite and meeting up because we were both there, I didn’t even know if he told his friends that we had been talking.  When we approached the booth he was sitting in, he was with 5 other guys.  One of them saw me and said, “There’s Gizzy.” And the rest of the guys all shifted themselves around so that there was an open seat next to HSC.  I took that as though he had told them.

To make a long story short, we drank, we ate, we flirted, we drank some more, we held hands, we rode a mechanical bull, we flirted some more, we took pictures, and then it was time to leave.  Polly and I had one last attraction we wanted to see before we left the festival and his friends were ready to catch a cab back to their neighborhood.  I invited HSC to come with us to see what we wanted to see and he said ok, even though none of his friends wanted to come.  So he, Polly, and I all took off and we held hands the whole way there.  I know, it’s really childish that I’m excited about a little hand holding but it gave me butterflies, so I’m happy about it. 

After we saw the last thing I told him we’d walk him to where he needed to meet up with his friends to make sure he found them, and then we’d call for our ride.  As we were standing there, we noticed Polly talking to a group of cops (something she does on the reg) and HSC said he wasn’t going to make us walk any further, his friends were a block away so he’d be ok going on his own from there.  We gave each other a hug and he said we needed to make sure we hung out more, I agreed and then he leaned in and kissed me.  THAT’S RIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!! WE KISSED!!!!!

After a hot and heavy make out sesh in the middle of the street (so classy) he said we really needed to make sure we hung out more often and said that it sucked we lived far away from each other.  Then he started coming up with plans as to how we can see each other, “We can take the mega bus back and forth. Or meet halfway.” Then I chimed in, “Or we can drive.  It’s only 5 hours, it’s not that far.” “Yeah!” He said, “We can do this.”

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Things I’m Thankful for on Our 2nd to Last Thanksgiving

With Thanksgiving just a week away most people are planning what dishes they are going to prepare for dinner next Thursday, planning where they’ll be spending this joyous holiday, who they’ll be spending it with, and maybe even what they’ll wear that will allow for an extra spoonful of stuffing, or 6.  

In years past, the week before Thanksgiving Lucky and I would’ve been on the phone together into the wee hours of the night complaining about how much it’s going to suck to be single for yet another coupley holiday.  This year is different though.  For once, we’re both content with being single and could care less if we were in a relationship or had a significant other to be thankful for.  Honestly, I’m thankful for myself.  That’s right, I’m thankful that I have the motivation to drag my pathetic single self (not my words, but the words of those around me who assume I am a cutter because I’m single) out of bed every morning to go to work.  

Which brings me to the next thing I’m thankful for:  Myself again.  I’m thankful that I have the willpower not to bitch slap my boss across the face every time she tells me to do something I’ve already done, so that I can keep my job and continue to bring home my poverty level salary.  I’m also thankful that my office decided to close at noon the day before Thanksgiving, also known as the first day I have taken off in a year.  Oh, I’m getting my half day back, I’m get.ting. it!

I’m thankful that someone important at work vetoed the idea of making a Thanksgiving tree that we cut out outlines of our hands and write 5 things we are thankful for on the fingers.  No I am not joking.  And no I do not work with children.

I’m thankful that I have the decency not to murder (whoopsie, forgot this is a family holiday) tie Anth to his bed in his sleep for not understanding that I bring home a poverty level salary and can’t afford things like maids, food, or underwear.  I’m thankful that after having the decency not to murder tie Anth to his bed in his sleep because he assumes I make more money than I actually do, I also have the common sense not to murder  tie him to his bed in his sleep for leaving crumbs on the kitchen counter and a sink full of dishes right before he leaves for a week and  a half.  

I’m thankful that there are enough crazies out there that think the world is actually going to end next December that I can be sarcastic with what I’m thankful for this year and save the real stuff for next year right before we’re all blown to smithereens.  I’m also thankful that those crazies inspired the movie 2012 because it’s really good, and I like it a lot.

I’m thankful that Zac Hanson kind of still has long hair 

And he still looks really good, and he’s wholesome.  Which means that at 12 years old I had better taste in men then I do now.

I’m thankful that I used protection the last time I had sex because having to feed a 10 month old baby before I could feed myself next week would really put a damper on my holiday spirit.

I’m thankful that solo cups aren’t see thru so that I can still get sloshed at Thanksgiving and no one will know since Grandma forbids drinking alcohol.

I’m thankful that there was an episode of Jeopardy last week that had a lot of fashion questions and now my roommates and their friends think that I’m really smart because I got them all right.

I’m thankful for my whirlpool bathtub, even though it takes 45 minutes to fill up and by the time it does I’m kind of over it, but those 2 minutes I actually sit in it are heaven.

I’m thankful for my vision so that I can look at hot guys like Alexander Skarsgard. I’m also thankful for Stelan Skarsgard for creating Alexander Skarsgard.

I’m thankful for these thingys that keep me from putting holes in my walls

I’m also thankful that they’re kind of fun to play with

I’m thankful for Forever 21 for having reasonably priced clothing, although their return policy blows donkey.  On the flip-side, I am not thankful for Bally’s Total Fitness/Bally’s Sports clubs for having 2 separate types of gyms and for not telling members that if you join total fitness you can’t go to the sports clubs locations even though you only want to use the treadmill and the location of the sports club is more convenient for you.

I’m thankful for my future puppy, Marshmallow Fluffy Butt, for being so cute

And um, I’m thankful for my family when they aren’t razzing me about not being married, my friends when they aren’t razzing me about not being married, our readers (always), and, uh, my health.  Lets eat bitchesssss.

 

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To Gizzy’s house: part II.

After we ripped the shots with the 20-somethings, we played a nice round of beer pong with them.  I don’t even remember who won, TMA.  Too much alcohol.

And we’d had enough, so we went back to the roof to continue our personal drinking antics.

At some point or other, we decided it was time to go inside and start getting ready for the night (birthday dinner at a sushi joint!) while watching a little Teen Mom, of course.

This is when we decided to put the wine glasses to the test (Gizzy got one for herself). And yes, we’ve got pics to prove it (coming soon, Thoughtsappear!). So we got all fresh and clean and into some slutastic dresses and headed out.  I mean, not to brag, but we looked good.

Once we were seated, Gizzy was completely disturbed and overtaken by a couple across the room. They were acting as though they were on a first date, but in fact, they were married.  They also looked Amish.  I may have also made the comment, “I didn’t know Amish people ate sushi.”  They were just about as awkward as you could imagine, no conversation, no footsie, not even any eye contact.  I wanted to order a round of shots for them laced with viagra.  At the end of the dinner they got up from the table and held hands as they walked away, really?! I’m sure they went home and got it on all over their beige furniture and against their white walls after like the best date EVER. Christ.

Anyway, we ordered a bottle of sake, some edamame, and several sushi rolls that were absolutely heaven. The waiter even brought us a delish dessert with a birthday candle in it! Happy Birfday Lucky!

We left, and hopped into a cab to get to this bar the guys swore was always a good time. Well…the atmosphere was pretty cool, but it was really cliquey, and we were looking for single, hot guys. so we ventured to the bathroom and as soon as we came out, this guy is all, “HEY HAVE YOU MET MY FRIEND?” So we go and chat it up with his friend, who insists we go get ourselves a drink and meet him later.  One of them wasn’t bad looking, but they also informed us they had been drinking all day, we took that as though they weren’t looking for some friendly conversation and peaced out.  I would’ve been really into it about 4 drinks later.

He doesn’t offer to buy us the drink. So we took a shot and left.

Our next stop was actually full of hotties, along with some lady who had her tits painted in red, white, and blue. So we had a drink there, I tried to dance with some sistas, but it didn’t work out. Upon our arrival, we got free passes to this supposed dance club upstairs, so we decided to check it out…only to see that it was basically loser central with a blowup doll on stage.  And a retard, I love me some retards, but not on the dance floor.  And especially not when a stripper pole is in the hizzy.

NEXT!

We went across the street and THAT’S where the party was. They had awesome music, the place was packed, and the DJ kept being like, “IT’S LUCKY’S BIIIIRTHDAY!” And she gave out free shots of something…it was good.

So G and I were talking, dancing, or something when this guy comes up to Gizzy all dressed in a white button down with a skinny black tie, and tells her he’s a billionare…He said his name was Danny, and he didn’t want to tell me his last name because I would only use him for his money (versus… his penis? IDK) and I simply said, “Unless it’s Bonaduce, I don’t care.”  Still, he was cute enough and I was drunk enough that I was contemplating throwing him a make out.

And, just when you think he’s sort of cocky, yet sort of cute, he completely falls over backward, pulling a bistro table down with him.

Seriously! Funniest part of the night!

I was certain he was going to get kicked out, but he popped right up like it never happened. And kept dancing. Regardless, Gizzy and I turned our backs to him. Just then, this smokin’ hot guy comes up to Gizzy, introduces himself and they are chatting it up while I’m probably stumbling around alone.

The hot guy leaves for a brief second, comes back, and is all, “Hey guys! Meet my friend Danny”—the billionaire. Hot guy was laughing, knowing full well this Danny guy was hammered and that we had just been talking to him and shunned him. Danny is all dancing like Lady Gags, doing some robot shit, and his friends are off in the distance laughing hysterically, while Danny sloshes drink all over my party dress.

All the while, I’m talking to hottie, who’s name is Mat (yes another one, but spelled different.) He had big muscles that Lucky kept feeling and was tall, and hot, and even asked for my number.  He has texted me quite a bit since that weekend, and I”ve been somewhat responsive.  I start out strong and then get too drunk and forget to write him back. Also take note that I don’t question why I’m single anymore.  I just know why now.

Around 1:30, we bolted. I had a good buzz and didn’t want to over do it and end up with my head in the toilet.

So we head back to the house, in an interesting cab, who told us everything we needed to know about driving one.  They have to lease the cabs for $300-450 A WEEK! I might now be interested in starting a cab business.

Once we get back to the house, half of the bachelor party is missing.  Gizzy surprises me with a huge German chocolate cake (my favorite) that’s basically in a safe. My new friends sang me happy birthday and we chow down.

Then, we venture back to Gizzy’s room for a game of Mouse Trap. At this point, we are sipping on the remaining wine in our glasses that have already collected dust—and no, we don’t seem to care.

One of the guys from the party joins us, and begins to tell us rousing information that he’s learned as a med student. During this conversation we learned a lot about how we can contract STD’s and not even see the symptoms basically until we die. Med student then discussed giving us each a pap-smear in my bathroom to check for unsuspected STDS we may have contracted in our days sleeping with dirty gentlemen suitor whores and we all got up from our chairs…

…TO BE CONTINUED…

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