Tag Archives: hottie mchotterson

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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Leave my booberry’s alone!!!!

Last night my roommate (mom) made an interesting observation and it got my wheels turning, which doesn’t happen very often.  She walked in my room to ask about my latest bout with the police and some speeding tickets I had acquired and failed to mention, but mid conversation she interrupted herself asking very loudly, “ARE YOU EATING BOOBERRY’S AND WATCHING AMERICA’S FUNNIEST HOME VIDEOS?!!!! NO WONDER YOU DON’T HAVE A JOB!” I said, “Mom’s I’m right here you don’t have to yell.”  She went on about how when she was 25 she had a 2 year old baby, a mortgage, TWO car payments, and a husband to look after.  I simply explained that it was her choice and that I’m sure had she explored her options grandma would have let her live at home into her late 20’s and fed her whatever cereal she fancied.  Then she asked if I would be sitting at my dining room table in the mornings eating booberry’s with my kids and watching cartoons.  I told her that I imagined I would.  I mean I’m sorry, no offense to you people that eat your wheaties and your raisin bran, but what the fuck.  When I eat those cereals I may as well be licking cardboard and if I am going to splurge with the cals on something in my day by god it is going to be booberry’s to start my day out right.  As I’m finishing up the last few bites of booberry’s and sipping my milk my roommate gets annoyed and grabs my bowl o booberrys out of my hands and takes it to the kitchen. So there I was left with booberry milk drizzle down my chin to tide me over until morning. Now, on to America’s funniest home videos.  It’s my favorite show, Lucky hates it, but I think whoever thought of it was genius and it is basically my life goal to be the person in charge of what goes on the show.  Imagine this, I’m at my high school reunion sitting at the V.I.P. table eating my booberry’s when my high school crush walks up and asks if he can have some booberry’s I say, “I guess” and snap my fingers at my personal assistant to get him a bowl of booberry’s and he asks what I do and I tell him, “I get paid to watch home videos.”  Imagine the things I would see, forget the news.  AFV is where you learn things.

This all made me think about how much I have really grown up.  Which is not much.  I still love spaghettios, lunchables, and fruit snacks.  But now I think asparagus tastes alright but I will never think sausage is cool.  It looks like a dehydrated turd.  Think about that the next time you order a meatlovers pizza, dehydrated turds baked right in! And they’re chewy. How can you sausage lovers live with yourselves?

As you can tell I am searching for everything and anything to blog about because my life is spiraling down the toilet.  So, I have decided to share my life goals, which is mostly a list of occupations I would like to have, in no particular order:

1. Host The Price Is Right, Let’s Make A Deal, AND The Family Fued (MULTI-TASKER)

2. Be in charge of picking out background music for Gossip Girl

3. Be Donald Trump

4. Win Miss America

I actually enrolled myself in my alma mater’s Miss America foundation pageant, the winner got to go to the state pageant and the winner of that went on to Miss America.  I show up to the call out and the first thing they do is say, “At SHIT U this is not a beauty pageant, we judge solely on your interview and speech.”  Take note, if it was a beauty pageant I would have won.  Not because I’m so jaw dropping beautiful or anything but my school was 70% male and 30% female and 20% of the females were from foreign countries where they don’t believe in bathing or into agriculture so they all smelled and had personal hygiene problems, we’re talking about cow dung under the nails hygiene problems.  IF it was a beauty contest I would’ve been a shoe in but IF it was a beauty contest my competition would have been different.  Apparently the other hygienic girls of SHIT U had already gotten this memo so I got up and walked out.  I mean seriously they were going to judge me based on what kind of speech I could put together about cow’s with colon cancer rather than how good my boobs look in a bikini, which is what they would be judged on in the next round? NEXT.  I should’ve transfered schools right then and there because now I am too old and I feel like I really missed my calling.  A girl that had quarter of an inch long hair, black nail polish, and was wearing the earrings that stretch the holes in your ears out is the one who won.  I made all my friends go with me to the pageant for my 21st birthday and I sat in the back row and sobbed because not only did she take MY crown that  I would have paraded around campus in so gloriously she didn’t even show up to the state pageant and forfeit any chance at Miss America.  I also went out to the bars for the first time the night of the pageant wearing a tiara my friends had bought me for my birthday signing autographs and telling people I won Miss SHIT U earlier that day.  Yep.

5.  Win an Olympic medal for gymnastics (Also now too old and rickety for this)

6. Be a homemaker

7. Be a world renowned surgeon and marry a hot doctor (EXACTLY like on Grey’s Anatomy)

8.  Find someone to marry who looks exactly like Josh Duhamel 😦

9. Marry a celebrity

10. Teach every cheating lying asshole in the world A LESSON.  mwhahaa

11. Be president.

12. Stop eating old candy out of my purse.

As you can see, I am in serious need of a life coach to pull me out of my childhood la la land (because my goals haven’t changed much since I was 10) and send me back to reality.  I honest to god think I am accomplish these goals what with having no background in any of them.  I can do it!

Well, tonight I will be traveling back to SHIT U to get my drinky on.  Drama to look forward to: The Captain, The Captain’s Crystal, HOTTIE MCHOTTERSON & CO, Merdie, and possibly douchearoo will all be in attendance.  Something eventful to spice up my life and yours will surely be happening in t-minus 9 hours. Tick tock!

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Being an adult can SUCK IT!

Thursday was quite possibly the worst day of my adult life.   I say my adult life because I don’t think I’ll ever have a worse day then when I pooped my pants on the first day of 7th grade.  Oh wait.  No one knows about that.  Damnit.  Cat’s out of the bag!

Thursday started out seemingly decent.  I drove to my alma mater to attend the job fair.  I stopped at 3 booths while there (I am such an over achiever) got 2 interviews and an invitation to apply online (Proctor and Gamble, just my luck.)  One of the interviews was scheduled to happen on Friday morning and the other one will be down the road.  My friend Kyle that works at the company said he would hook it up.

So I leave the job fair and hop in my car to go to my test which is about 65 miles away and I leave in PLENTY of time, 2 hours before I need to be there.  I get 20 miles down the interstate and I hear a BOOM and see something fly out the back of my car.  G-REAT! THEN I hear a scraping sound and every time I hit a bump something flies up and hits underneath my car.  I pull off and see that my entire exhaust system has broken in half and is dragging the ground.

Thank the lord jesus for technology.  I hopped on the horn to a near-by midas and they told me to “bring ‘er in.” $320 and 3 hours later I had missed the test but the hoopty was purring like a kitten. I went back to SHIT U to stay at Mercedes apartment so I could be well rested for my big interview the next morning.

I was SUPER stoked about this interview.  It was with a software consulting firm so if they liked me I could be making 60K a year, get to live wherever I wanted in the continental US, get 4 weeks of paid vacation, have a 4 day work week, they fly me wherever I’m needed, AND they pay for my living expenses Monday – Thursday.  So that means I would only have to pay to be alive 43% of the time.  I thought I had a pretty decent shot of getting it considering I was wandering around the job fair aimlessly and one of their recruiters, Matt, approached ME to see what kind of job I was looking for.  I’m on my way back to SHIT U when right on time I get pulled over.  The officer clocks me going 69 in a 65.  On the interstate.  Like really fuck ass mother fucker, 4 over is subject to interpretation because what if your stupid ass radar detector is off or what if my gauge is off.  Like seriously, FUCK THE PO-LICE! So not only does he give me a speeding ticket, he thinks I’m hiding something and searches my car.   All he finds are some leftover bottles from events I’ve done IN THE TRUNK! I have no idea what the open container laws in this state are AT THE TIME and when he raises a stink about it I just say I thought it was fine since they were in the trunk and clearly I wasn’t drinking them.  He proceeds to tell me that he is going to confiscate them but will let me slide with a warning this time.  I flip him the bird behind his back (hope your fucking PO camera got that on film asswipe) and drive away going 64 miles an hour.  Later I looked up the open container laws only to find that it is NOT illegal to have an open container in the car, and the passenger can be chugging away all they want and these dirty po’s can’t say a word about it, SHIT even the driver is allowed to drink as long as when you’re given a breathalyzer you blow under 0.04.  So I could’ve been drinking the shit and not been breaking the law.  You best BELIEVE I am filing a complaint.  This state owes me some BOOZE!

Anyway, I get to Mercedes apartment and eat my feelings for a solid hour and a half when she tells me, Garbage is coming to go out tonight.  Garbage is Snoop-Linus’ “good friend” and old roommate who Mercedes was weirdly attracted to.  He has a greasy face, a HUGE nose, no personality, and basically sucks as a person so I don’t get it.  Garbage and Mercedes date back to when Snoop-Linus and I first began dating, they drunkenly made out in a bar one night after we introduced them and she fell in love.  Since then Garbage has stood Mercedes up, stolen her pot, stolen her booze, made her foot several of their dinner bills, pre-ejaculated, not ejaculated at all, not called her for months at a time, told her she was worthless and he could never bring a black girl home…. just to name a few.  He SUUUUCKS! Out of all of Snoop-Linus’ friends I want him to drop dead the most.  Not only did he screw over Mercedes, but he also screwed Snoop-Linus out of a nice apartment and thousands of dollars among other things, he also purposely and single handedly got me an F on a test and TRIED to screw me out of about $300.  These are stories for another time.  Just know, I hate him and wish him only the worst in life.

So, Mercedes is all excited because Garbage is coming to go out.  I explain to her at least 50 times that she knows how much of a grubbing mooch he is and that she won’t see or hear from him until 4am when he wants to come get laid and smoke a bowl.  Mercedes says “It’s different this time,” but I, I know it’s not because once a piece of garbage ALWAYS a piece of garbage.

Mercedes begs me to go out and be her wingwoman.  I’ll be a vagina block, that’s what I’ll be.  Fucking Garbage.  I tell her I’ll be the DD because I don’t want to jeopardize the wonderful opportunity I’ve been given to interview with this company.  So we go out and she meets some other dude and is all slob knob over him.  I’m standing there chatting away with Acts Gay But Says He’s Straight Friend Adam when I see BEAST/WHORE #1 walk in the bar.  I was already aware that Acts Gay But Says He’s Straight Friend Adam knows her and had previously filled him in on why I hate her. So I tell him BEAST/WHORE #1 is here!! He says “WHERE?!!” and as he turns to look there she is touching my arm with her Louis Vuitton.  Slut. My eyes were huge, Acts Gay But Says He’s Straight Friend Adam’s eyes were huge and she was just standing there like a dumb cunt towering over everyone with her beastly chins.

Beast/Whore #1 and Acts Gay But Says He’s Straight Friend Adam talk for a few about god knows what while I am furiously texting Gigi telling her to come help me take this bitch out. Gigi also has a bad history with Beast/Whore #1 so she is passionately hated by everyone who knows us and 99% of the campus and tri-state area, and Italy.

The next thing I know I hear Acts Gay But Says He’s Straight Friend Adam saying this to Beast/Whore #1, “This is my best friend Gizzy, she is like the most amazing person I have ever met.” Beast/Whore #1 sticks out her man hand and says, “Hi I’m Beast/Whore #1,” (You people know me well enough to know that this WILL NOT fly in Gizzy’s world.  Whore.) So I shoot her the dirtiest look I can conjure up and leave her man hand hanging solo.  Slut.  THEN she says, “I know you from somewhere, where is it?” OOOOHHH NOOO BITCH, ITS ON! I scream at her, “You know exactly where you know me from you fat whore.”  And throw my sprite on her fat head.  Turn around and see none other than HOTTIE MCHOTTERSON standing there looking at me.  I burst into tears and went running out of the bar.  And no one followed.

Eventually I pulled myself together and met Mercedes and her flavor of the hour at another bar, after repeatedly texting her to “let me know when that fat cunt leaves.”  The flavor of the hour realized he probably wasn’t going to get any so he left, then Mercedes eyes Garbage from across the way.  Of course Garbage never approaches her, just like I said so I put the kibosh on hanging out with him and tell her the train is leaving because I need to go have an ugly girl cry by myself.  So she says “hi” to Garbage while I stand at the door and scour him and his dirty friends with my eyes in disgust.

We get back to Mercedes apartment and it’s 3am, I tuck myself in happy that I am going to get 5 hours asleep when 20 minutes later Mercedes busts out of her room and says that Garbage and his friend are coming over to smoke at 4 am, just like I said.  I grunt in utter disgust and roll over.  45 minutes later they show up and repeatedly open her door every 5 minutes screaming my name until 7:30 in the morning to ensure that I get NO SLEEP before my interview.  See why I want them dead?   What pisses me off is that Mercedes is a bitch whore and never told them to stop because I needed to sleep.  She laughed.  And that is why Mercedes is now and forever SHUNNED! I have enough token black friends anyway.

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Ok yes I am screaming rape but it was only emotional and then the next day by nature.  I’m sure you all have been sitting at home clacking away at your keyboard…”cocktailsattiffanys.wordpress.com, no post. damnit. cocktails at tiffanys.wordpress.com.  still no post. fuck myyyyy liffffffeeeeeee why won’t these stupid whores post something!!!” And so on and so forth, I just hope no one actually slit their wrists waiting to see if I hit it big with HOTTIE on Thursday night.  The answer to that is no, but as always where Gizzy goes drama follows.

Can I just have an A.D.D. moment and say that I am watching a Knight’s Tale right now and it makes want to lay in a luke warm bath and cry my eyes out while listening to The Way You Look Tonight and daydream about what mine and Heath Ledgers wedding would’ve been like if he hadn’t died.  I am so sad right now.  Not to mention our 18 kids with their luscious wavy golden locks. The part when William goes back to see his old blind dad, O-M-G ugly girl cry.

Anyway, back to the weekend.  I was only supposed to stay at the old alma mater Thursday night, but it didn’t deem the results I wanted after not seeing HOTTIE at the bars Thursday but seeing him Friday after I dropped Gigi at class with my makeup from the night before still caked to my face while rocking out to Enrique Iglesias in my rickety old beater of a car. So of course I had to go back Friday night, ruin everything and embarrass myself.  Ok so maybe it wasn’t that bad.  But I got myself into a bit of a pickle.  Everything was going great until Bri tells me that Fred (HOTTIE’S bff) isn’t out but she is going to text and ask him if HOTTIE is in town, just so I know.  Fred replies and says that HOTTIE went home for the weekend.  To my knowledge the conversation was over after that. But 15 minutes later here comes Fred in his sweatpants.  Fred walks up and immediately starts talking to me about the last incident that had occurred with HOTTIE, which is EXACTLY what Merdie did the previous night. Christ.

Instead of keeping my shit together, I flip it and go off on Fred asking why HOTTIE is telling everyone in his goddamned rolodex about that night! He retorts with a magnificent explanation about how HOTTIE likes me and has never really had a girlfriend because he is a huge nerd and “isn’t emotionally out there” (Fred’s words not mine, I don’t know what the hell it means) and that when he initially heard about me he was hoping I would go for it, but now that I have brought all the drama to the yard he’s not so sure.  I 100% agree, I am a prime candidate for a chapter in He’s Just Not That Into You and I am completely aware of it. But when I build a bridge it typically gets burnt as well.  So needless to say, I’ll run the HOTTIE thing into the ground until 1 of 3 things happen: 1) He straight up tells me to keep his name out my mouth 2) I find someone new to obsess over 3) I get a court order to leave him alone. We’ll either be together for ever or he’ll hate my drunk guts when this is all over with.

I tried to recover so that I didn’t seem like the complete psycho that I am and hung out with Fred, his ex girlfriend, and their friend Mike the rest of the night.  Fred&Co invited me back to Fred’s for a post bars cocktail, I had to respectfully decline and take Mercedes home since she was 2 seconds away from pulling her thong to the side and having her way with one of Gigi’s boyfriend’s friends against the bar behind us.  I thought I had redeemed myself by showing Fred&Co my true cool and oh so sly self after I shut up about HOTTIE so that they could all go back and tell HOTTIE that he should propose.

It worked a little too well.  The next day I get a text from Bri saying that Fred asked her for my number and she didn’t know what to do. Unfortunately, I was busy third wheeling it with Betty and her archaeologist boyfriend in a canoe and it took me 5 hours to respond.  During which I got raped by nature, always needing to be in control I nominated myself to be in the back of the boat.  I got smacked in the body with a tree branch and I look like I’ve been beaten to death.  We’re talking egg on the head, mini-black eye, scrapes on my face and neck, most of my left leg is missing, and some how 3 of my vertebrae got taken out.  Basically when we were approaching the tree limb instead of doing the smart thing and bailing out I did the stooopid thing and laid down and had the rolling pin effect done to my whole body.  Anyway, when I saw the text from Bri my thoughts went 2 ways, either he wants my number to hook me up with HOTTIE or I impressed him so much that now he wants to take part in what HOTTIE is missing out on.  The logical part of me thinks he wants to hook me up with HOTTIE and doesn’t want my phone number to try and bang me since he knows I am in love with his best friend and the fact that I am friends with his ex-girlfriend and us talking/hanging out in a non-platonic way would piss off everyone we both know and love/get us both gunned down.  But, men are scum. So we’ll see.

With that being said, I have started to talk to my high school crush again.  That’s all I’m going to say right now because there is a good chance of him reading this and I’d really like to tell him how I feel about him before the rest of the world.  But, if he does read this and still wants to hang out with me he is either my soul mate or has something mentally wrong with him.  Probably the later or he’d have a girlfriend already.

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The bed wetter

Hopefully I can ward off my hangover long enough to pull this post together.  Yesterday my Dad and Step-Mom threw a wedding reception for themselves.  Knowing the kind of friends my dad has, the people they work with, and my family I knew this party was going to be no funzo for me.  So I helped out as much as I could stayed for 5 hours and then told my dad I started my period and needed to leave.  Like any man would do in that situation he got freaked out and shooed me out the door.  So away I went to my olllll alma mater.

I called up Gigi and Mercedes so we threw back some shots and away we went.  I had secret hopes of seeing HOTTIE out but of course never saw him or any of his peoples.  And like clockwork I got drunk and sent him a text at 2:30 in the morning asking if he was around.  No response.  Typs.  I think I’ll let him go.

Anyway, we’re leaving our first bar when I run into someone I met my sophomore year of college.  We’ll call him MP.  Now MP and I met sophomore year at my apartment.  I was out fratting it up and decided to have a little after partaaay with my friend Betty.  So Betty and I call up our friend Ryan, Ryan says he’ll bring his friend MP over so it’s even.  So we took a lot of shots, and by a lot I mean like finished a half gallon of vodka.  Betty and Ryan sat down in the living room to watch Napoleon Dynamite (that’s how long ago this roots back) so I go back to my room to go to bed and MP follows me.  Drunk as skunks we start to make out and crawl into bed.  Nothing else happened though because I think we both passed out.  So I wake up like 20 minutes later, come to my senses and get the eff out of there.  I grabbed a blanket and my pillow and went to the living room to finish watching Napoleon with Betty and Ryan and pass out on the living room floor.

I wake up in the morning to Ryan and MP shuffling around to gather their things.  I didn’t want it to be awkward so I just pretended I was still asleep until they left.  Well first I open up the fridge and see that they stole ALL of my capri-suns.  W.T.F.  So gay.  Then I head back to my room.  I scream and Betty and my roommates all come running.  “THAT MOTHER FUCKER WET MY BED!!!!!!!!” Huuuuge wet spot right in the center of my bed.  I call up Ryan and tell him and he busts out laughing, tells MP what I said and MP lies about it obvi and says it was me.  Then I get super pissed, “Um NO! I slept in the living room ass wipe!” This argument of who wet the bed went on for a good hour with more evidence of it being him than me.  So we hang up and what do I do? I create a facebook group and invite all his friends, “MP wet my bed and lied about it.”

Well time passed and eventually the attention to the story fizzled out.  About 2 years ago MP and I ran into each other in a bar, hashed it out, he admitted to wetting my bed so I said we could be friends.  I figured anyone who wanted to be friends with me after I made a facebook group about them announcing to a campus of 40,000 people that they are a bed wetter deserves a second chance.

So last night I run into MP, we’re all “Oooohhhhh how have you been, what are you up to, yada yada yada.”  I’m drunk enough to pull the ole, “Lemmeeee see if I still have yourrr numba!” (Exactly like that because I was hammered.) I didn’t so we exchanged numbers and as soon as I left he was texting me, take note of the time sequence:

1:23 am MP: What bar did you want to meet at?

G: Bar 4

1:25 am MP: Sounds good, lets meet there in a bit.

G: We’ll probably be there around 2

1:27 am MP: k wanna meet up later?

G: Ya sounds good, text me when you head to Bar 4.

1:29 am MP: Stop.  You wanna talk now?

G: Lol  talk about what? We’re at snakes drinking vodka tonics.

1:32 am MP: I guess I just wanna make out.  Is that bad?

*At this point I was cackling my little black stilettos off telling every one in the bar the bed wetting story, so I rolled with it to see what was going to happen.*

G: Haha not bad.

1:34 am MP: Come back to Henry’s real quick.

G: Ok we’ll come back in a minute when we finish our drinks. (not!)

1:36 am MP: K I’m here.

1:41 am MP: Where you wanna meet?

G: We’re finishing our drinks then coming to Henry’s.

1:45 am MP:  Sounds good

1:57 am MP: Where you at?

2:06 am MP: Yo wake up

G: Sorry finishing up now about to come there. (Not!)

2:07 am MP: K hurry!!!

2:10 am MP: Where you at?

2:15 am MP: Nlothin (Nothin)

2:15 am MP: Huh

2:21 am MP: Come on hun

*Text HOTTIE for a last chance at love, “Heyy are you around?”*

G: Sorry sorry just looked at my phone, we’re at Bar 4.

2:26 am MP: You wanna meet up?

2:26 am MP: Come to Henry’s silly

G: My friends want to stay here.

2:28 am MP: Come on just me and you

2:49 am G: I’m staying at my friends she wants to be here

2:51 am MP: Ok just wanted to say hi that’s all, no worries. (Uh huh)

G: Why didn’t you just come to Bar 4 then?

2:53 am MP: Haha your girl is here you need better excuses

G: I don’t think sooo they’re both with me

2:58 am MP: Where you at I will come to Bar 4.

G: Yeah come here (At this point I was already sitting in Mercedes car at the Mcdonalds drive-thru)

3:01 am MP: The bars are closed

3:02 am MP: Should I wait for you outside?

G: Ya

3:04 am MP: K to the right

3:23 am MP: Should I leave?

3:44 am MP: You in bed for the night?

*Next day*

11:51 am MP: You wanna get breakfast?

12:01 pm MP: come on, I wanna see you!

Is that someone desperate to get laid or is that someone desperate to get laid? Get home get on facebook, girlfriend.  RE-SHUNNED! Asshole.

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Don’t lie to customs, don’t throw your blackberry at a barracuda, and most importantly don’t drink the water. PART DOS MON!

Don’t send out the search party. (unless it’s a hot guy with abs and a full head of hair) for I have returned.  I got back from the family cruise and stayed at my mom’s house all of 2 days before I was jet setting again.  Most likely I’m not going to seriously start looking for a job until I have spent all my money and sink low enough to rob my little sisters piggy bank.  I kid, I kid.  I would never do that and shatter her lifetime dreams of purchasing her first American Girl doll with her very own money.  Somehow at the ripe old age of 6 she has managed to save $76.  My mom asked her where she got it all because to her knowledge she only had $20 left over from her birthday money.  Ella (that’s my sister) told her that a while ago I gave her a smiley face piggy bank filled with money.  Bomb.

Anyway, my old college friend/sorority sister/partner in crime BabyVic and I concocted a master plan that I should make a trip to her city of residence (let’s hear it for Chi-townnnnnnn) and look for jobs.  All previous knowledge I have of Chicago is that it is expensive, there’s no parking, and boasts the best pizza I have ever tasted (Lou Malnati’s for anyone who wants to give it a whirl.) But I thought what the hell, I have a little bit of money and no responsibilities lets take another week long vacation to Chicago to “job hunt.”  Mom’s bought the story so off I went.  I completely realize that I am 25 and should stop acting like I’m 21 and some free spirit.  It’ll happen, eventually.  Really, BabyVic and I just sat on the deck of her high rise apartment building overlooking the lake and drank the week away.  I did a good deed and applied for 2 jobs – but I’m not expecting to hear anything. The highlight of the week was when we went to a bar downtown called theory and ran into a few people we knew from college, who were with a few other people they knew from college.  We all got to introducing ourselves and what not and I was aimlessly rambling at this guy, we’ll call him BRO until later in the story.  So Bro and I are throwing back shooters, laughing, having a gay old  time.  He asked for my number so I say give me yours and I’ll call you.  I ask for his last name and he tells me my name is BRO MCHOTTERSON.   What.  At this point my brain fills with stories I had heard from HOTTIE MCHOTTERSON about him and his brother BRO who lives in Chicago and all the fun stuff they would do.  Well, I asked and it was true.  Some how in the lucks of all lucks I met HOTTIE’s brother and managed to ho-bag my way into him asking for my number.  Just for safe measure I asked if his brother was HOTTIE MCHOTTERSON who attends Shit University and he said yes, so I said I couldn’t talk to him anymore.  Then, he put it all together.  Ooooohhhh…. you’re THAT Gizzy.  That Gizzy, that girl.  Same thing.  We laughed it off and I’m pretty sure the drunker I got the more I told BRO about how much I still like HOTTIE and I’m also pretty sure he was texting HOTTIE the whole time.  I can’t win with this guy, even when I’m in a different state any chance I have with him walks up slaps me in the face and then takes a giant shit right on top of me.  I’m getting pretty tired of this mockery.

I just can’t even talk about HOTTIE anymore.  Even being friends with him is up there on the list of things that will never happen right along with the resurrection of my blackberry.

Back to part 2 of what I actually meant to be rambling about instead of my life’s mishaps.  Some highlights of the trip that aren’t necessarily stories:

*I walked through a bar on the boat one night, looked on the dance floor, and saw Cousin Dumber on the dance floor in his boxer-briefs wearing a ladies bra and lipstick doing a backflip.  Now, I don’t know what was going on and I don’t think I want to.

*We decided to take Cousin D to senor frogs.  She was 18 (the legal drinking age in the Bahamas.  WOOHOO!) and had just graduated high school, thinking back to when I graduated high school Lucky and I were having run in’s with the cops and almost getting arrested because of drinking so I’m sure it wasn’t her first taste of alcohol.  Me, Cousin D, Uncle L, Cousin Dumb, Cousin Dumb’s wife, and Cousin Dumber all went to the frog where we each got a yard.  That’s 3 feet of margarita goodness.  She finished her yard in about 5 minutes so when Uncle L (the chaperone, because 3 25 year olds and a 28 year old aren’t good enough) wasn’t looking I got her another yard.  Then we did the conga line and took 5 more tequila shots, then got on stage and danced the macarena and got another yard.  From what my pictures tell me she passed out in the elevator, crawled up the stairs, passed out on the stairs, and ended the night with her mom holding her hair back.   I like it.

*Everyone has a few drinks one night we layed out on top deck to watch the meteor shower and then decided to go to the 24 hour pizza station.  We’re all sitting there when Aunt T finally says, “OK! I can’t stand this anymore.  Does anyone else smell the pot?”  Of course, we all feel awkward because Cousin Dumber who is also 25 has spent most of his 20’s in jail because of the pot. She takes another bite of her pizza and busts out laughing, “IT’S THE PIZZA IT’S THE PIZZA! WE’RE ALL EATING POT PIZZA!” My family is a bunch of crackheads, the pot jokes went on for a good 20 minutes, Aunt V was laughing so hard she was crying while Aunt P and Cousin Dumb rolled individual oregano joints in napkins and lit them up.  I really wonder how we didn’t get kicked off.

All in all it was a decent trip, I had fun until we got back.  Everyone got through the customs line and we were heading to get our luggage when 2 officers approached me.

Officer:  Buy some BAAAGS while you were away?

Me: BAHAHA Yeah, a few.

Officer: Are you aware that those are copy written and I could confiscate the bags, take you to jail, and you would have a record?

Me:  Take the bags?????

Officer (looks at my mom and aunts):  Did anyone else buy any BAAAAAGS?

Everyone shook their head no.  Bitches.

Officer:  Ma’am I’m going to need you to come with me.  And bring your BAAAAGS.

They tossed me in a room with no windows JUST LIKE you see in the movies, like I was a criminal.

Officer:  These BAAAAGS are counterfeited.

Me: I’m aware of that.

Officer:  How much do you think these run in the stores?

Me: Like $1,000

Officer:  And you paid?

Me: $50.

Officer: Mmhmm.

Me:  Have you ever been to New York?  They sell these on canal street you know, it’s not just in the Bahamas.

Officer:  Who do you know on canal street? Ya smugglin’ some bags for your homies to sell back in NYC? (Mind you, I’m not ghetto in the least, I’m 5’5, 120 pounds with long brown hair, I wear dresses and high heels so this guy can spare me with his homie garb and take it back to Jamaica mon, and get me a goddamned Cuban cigar while you’re there. I couldn’t buy one in the Bahamas because THOSE are illegal.  Bastard.)

Me: Uhhhh.  I bought 2?

Officer:   Give me your passport and write down your last 5 addresses.

Me: Whaaaatttt?

Officer: I’m going to need to investigate this further, you can go to jail and have a record for fraud, you bag smuggler.

Me: I’m not smuggling any bags, just take them.  I just graduated college.  I have no money to buy the real thing.

Officer:  I’m going to need you to take off your shirt.  (Totes kidding)

He let me leave after that.  There was a little more irrelevant conversation that went on about my family’s teeth and my last STD screening but I’m still not sure if I am wanted by the government for bag smuggling or what the deal is. He said he would contact me with any further questions so I gave him my cell number and forgot to mention that my cell had gotten eaten by a barracuda. So if I go missing please come look for me in the Bahamian prison because I will surely be expedited and given only my Louis duffel to survive.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What. An. IDIOT!

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

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

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

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


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

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


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

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

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Once you go black…

I won’t lie that I am more than a bit sheltered.  I have never done anything sexually with someone of a different race.  I’m not opposed to it, but if I had my choice I’d like to start out with something small like an asian or latino and work my way up.

Last night I received the grand daddy of all offers.  When HOTTIE stood us up because he had a test today (BUH!) I went out prowling for someone who will act interested.  And I found him:

I wish it was really Drake, but it’s as close as I’ll ever come and he really does look like him, lucky me.  I have met this guy, I’ll call him Drake 2.0, a few times before. Once at a party where I had my hair in buns on the side of my head like princess Leia during my star wars phase.

The second time was at a pizza establishment at 4am where I offered him a slice of my pie, no pun intended.  I *think* he accepted the offer, but he reminded me that this happened during the time period when I was accident prone, to myself.  I had casts on 4 out of 5 fingers on my left hand and my entire arm wrapped in a weird arthritis type cast.  I know you’re all wondering what happened, as was he, I told him I got my arm caught under a lawn mower.  But here’s the real story:

I had just found out about Bi-Polar ex and the fat troll make out a few days prior, so I drank to forget my name.  The night started with beer pong with my besties, rollerblading alone around my apartment complex while double-fisting bud lights.  At some point the night took a turn for the worse and my “friends” let me go to the bars.  Alone.  The pictures from that night told me that I found some of my neighbors and went back to their place to play beer pong.  Something bad happened and I found myself in a pile of broken glass on my bedroom floor and my left appendage gushing blood.  I crept into Gigi’s room and she claims I had a towel wrapped around my arm with saran wrap around the towel, how I managed that one handed is beyond me but it’s pretty damn impressive. Gigi left her boyfriend to take me to the hospital, where our hilarious and inappropriate hawaiian friend Lara joined.  I ended up with 30 some stitches, a re-fillable prescription of vicodin, 5 awkward casts, and 25 pictures of my friends hanging out in the hospital ER at 4am.

Anywho, it’s embarrassing to tell people that I’m such a lush that I honestly don’t know what happened.  I know it was from a vase and I assume it fell off my wall and broke and I was drunkenly trying to clean it up in order to avoid exactly what happened, but much like the number of licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie pop, the world may never know.  So I would just make up whatever came to mind when people asked what happened.  It was usually the lawn mower story, or that I got my arm caught in the bus and then it drove off.

Back to the black dong, Drake 2.0 jokes around about having a one night stand which I joke back and say oh yeah your bed or mine? Like a whore.  I know.  Christ.  When he started to talk seriously about it and I was just drunk enough to not have a repeat of the elevator incident, I decided it was time to go so I made up an excuse and left my tab open for all my slumlord friends to nickel and dime my bank account to death, but not before I gave him my number.  He texted me all day and all night about hanging out tonight.  I agreed but as the day wore on I started to get nervous, black men notoriously have big penises.  Not that I was going to run out and sleep with him but I have a week and a half left in this city so I’m not reaaally looking to start conquering my next great love.

But I am scared, no terrified, to let a black man’s penis near my V.  More terrified than I am to become the creepy cat lady, which is an idea I’m starting to warm up to as I get closer and closer to 26 and the end of my fertile life as we know it. I am a small girl and I am nervous it will turn out like Mr. Hands. I’m only 25, I can’t die. If you’ve never seen or heard of Mr. Hands I suggest you keep it that way, trust me you do NOT want to know.  The story and images will sear into your brain and give you and your children nightmares for the rest of your life.  Gigi showed me the actual video without giving me fair warning of what it was and I no joke barfed my dinner up. Ok, so it’s a guy having sex with a horse.  Actually the horse is having sex with him, in the butt, and he dies after it.  The most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen.  And if you google it, kill yourself because you’re SICK and don’t deserve to live.  That’s what I should’ve told Gigi after she watched it a second time.

So I texted Drake 2.0 a few hours before we were supposed to meet up and asked for a raincheck.  He’s flying out to L.A. for a job interview tomorrow (probably an interview to be famous, I’m a moron) and doesn’t know when he’ll be back.  Looks like I missed my chance at going black and never going back, I think I’m ok with it though.  He was asking Gigi about my ex bidness and I don’t want none that drama.  I’ll just keep it as a coulda, woulda, shoulda situation. Shoulda. Damnit.

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Tales From Tuesday Night

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

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

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

Me: Ohhhh heyyyyy!! How have you been?

HOTTIE: Pretty good, you?

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

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

Me: Yeah me too, same old stuff.

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

HOTTIE: Well, it was good to see you.

Me: Yeah you too, bye!

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

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

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

Gigi: YEAH! Tell him to come out.

Bri: Who are you talking about?

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

Bri: Are you talking about HOTTIE MCHOTTERSON?

Me: Um, yes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Happy Birthday Lucky!!! I blacked the fuck out in your honor.

This post is so important to my life and to our 4 readers that I am consciously making myself late for work so that I can post it.  I only have a month left at this job so who gives a damn right? Not me.  They can fire my ass for all I care and I’ll just post blogs all day long about cool stuff I find on the web, like hurr:

A smoking monkey!! I actually went trolling for this picture of the scariest demon monkey that has ever walked the planet, but it seems as though someone came to their senses and took it off the internet.  Thank goodness for that because I love googling cute monkey pics.

Anyway, back to the weekend that ruined my life.  Last I told everyone HOTTIE and I were about to get married and start spitting out half a dozen enginerd children.  Things went array when I decided to celebrate Lucky’s birthday last Friday, mind you Lucky and I live over 1,000 miles away from each other so we were together in spirit.

Gigi, our acts gay but says he’s straight friend Adam, and I started the night out sharing a bottle of smirnoff pineapple aka blackout in a bottle.  Since I was texting with HOTTIE and he was going out as well, I convinced Gigi and Adam that we had to finish the entire bottle because I was going to put the moves on HOTTIE.  We finished the bottle and made it to the bars around 1am, when we hoped everyone else would be on our level.  And by that I mean, everyone else is drunk and we are those girls that every guy in the bar is glad they aren’t dating.  We arrive and I immediately see my “little bro” (side note: little bro is a greek little bro, I was a sorority bitch and so was Lucky, little bro at my school means some freshman you get wasted until he pukes and embarrasses himself.) little bro says that he needs to buy me a shot for my birthday because he missed it 6 months ago, I agree that he owes me and throw back the tequila.  Then I move down the line to one of douchearoo’s friends who I talk with for a while about coming to sit in his hot tub, and here’s where the night gets fuzzy…

I finally make my way to HOTTIE and his friends, where I see one of snoop-linus’ friends, Merdie who is conveniently also friends with HOTTIE and out with him this very evening.  Merdie and I exchange numbers and promise that we are going to get pants shitting drunk for the next month together.  At one point in the evening I remember calling HOTTIE a pussy while caressing his arm because he wouldn’t take the bubblegum shot I bought for him and then he left. At which point I tell Merdie and all of HOTTIE’s friends from home that I really like him but that he hates my drunk guts.  Then I have this text convo with HOTTIE:

1:42 a.m.

Me: Hey where’d you go? Merdie is looking for you

1:52 a.m.

HOTTIE: Sorry someone called and had to leave.  Prob be back out

1:54 a.m.

Me: It’s cool… let me know if you come back out.

1:55 a.m.

HOTTIE: Aight, it’s 2am already though you should just come over

1:57 a.m.

Me: Yeah for sure.  Just tell me when to come over.

1:58 a.m.

HOTTIE: Whenever you finish up at the bars

1:59 a.m.

Me: Ok.  I’ll be over in a few

Throughout the entire text convo I am pounding jager bombs and telling everyone how I’m going to DO IT, I’m going to put the moves on HOTTIE.  They’re all cheering me on, and raising me above their heads chanting GIZZY! GIZZY! GIZZY! After I tell HOTTIE I’ll be over in a few, less than 5 minutes later I’m knocking at his front door like a desperate fool.

We’re hanging out for a while, talking and flirting, we went on a walk to get snacks, and when we came back is when I fucked everything up.  I guess those jager bombs finally hit me because there we are cozied up on the couch when I feel the urge to projectile vomit all over both of us.  I jump up, tell him I’ve got to go, scurry around to grab all of my belongings, and bolt out the front door.  He’s chasing me insisting that he walk me home because it’s nearly 4am.  I say no no no and hop into the elevator, where he follows me, and I sit down on the floor.  So here I am, in the skankiest skank dress I have, that I can’t even find a picture of online now.  Probably because they realize what horror the dress ensues on those that wear it and created a recall that only I have yet to receive.  But it was a knee length, skin tight, black, tube dress.  Very hot.  But here I am sitting in HOTTIE’s elevator, probably showing him my cooter because GOD FORBID I wear underwear and have panty lines and not show the guy I like my goodies when I’m blacked out drunk laying on his elevator floor.   So we get to the bottom floor, I can’t remember but I’m guessing it went something along the lines of me thanking HOTTIE for looking so good and then running out the door trying not to projectile vomit while he can still see me.

I don’t remember the 3 block walk home from HOTTIE’s apartment to mine, I thought I came home, threw up, and went to bed but I woke up in the morning with a mystery substance that smells like literal shit strewn about my living room floor. I was also naked, alone, and had wet hair.  As soon as I woke up I called everyone I knew to see if they thought I had ruined it with HOTTIE; the general consensus was yes but that I should still apologize and see what he said.  Me being a giant coward that I am, I wait until 3pm to text him and apologize for being a hot mess the night before, when I get the reply, “It’s no problem.” And I haven’t heard from him since.

BUT, since I have analyzed the shit out of the situation and everything I could remember, I had to get someone else involved that was there that evening; considering Gigi, Adam, and I had pieced together all we could.  So I call up Merdie to see if he wants to get a drink. (Thats right Gizzy, just go drink some more. Idiot.)  Last night Merdie and I met for a few drinks with Gigi, her boyfriend, and his roommates in tow.  I tell him what happened with HOTTIE and he says that he spoke with HOTTIE’s bestie the next day who was there that night as well and he told him, “Yeah, HOTTIE is a sissy.”  I dissected this into meaning that he had the same intentions I did that night, but since he let me go home his friends all think he has no game now.

Of course, me Gizzy the master of master plans has what else? A master plan.  I’m going to linger outside HOTTIE’s classroom tomorrow morning before class and force him to talk to me.   Als0, Texas is coming into town tonight and wants to meet up we’ll see what kind of drunken mess I can get myself into tonight.  God speed.

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