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To Gizzy’s house: part IV.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

UMM YOU NEED TO CHECK MY FACEBOOK.

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

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

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

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

Happy 4th LOL

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fair enough.

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

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

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

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

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

Us: Table for 2

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

Lucky: So ARE you staying open later?

Hostess: We’re not seating anyone right now

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

Hostess: I didn’t say you were

Lucky: Uh! Yeah, ya did!

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

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

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

But I felt worlds better.

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

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

Overall, an AWESOME visit!

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I’m not NFL wife material.

I tell you what.  The forces are really trying to keep me from you all these days.  I’m too chicken to get on The Blog at work, for obvious reasons.  No one at my office can know I have an actual personality.  And back at the ol’ dungeon, well, our internet has been down more than it has been up since I moved to the big city, and Anth, our self-proclaimed tech-ie, isn’t doing jack shit to get us up and running.  Yeah, he ordered us a new router and hooked it up, but he is the only one who can get online – so that’s awesome.  Basically this blog is brought to you via a McDonalds parking lot at 6:30 in the morning.  And by god is it worth it.  Nothin’ like enjoying a little bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit, a lil bit o hash brown, some oj, and a nice bloggity blog about my weekend.

Really though, going M.I.A. for a week or so every so often isn’t the worst thing in the world.  In my head everyone is sitting in front of their computers hitting the refresh button just waiting for an update on my fascinating life.

Anyway on to the good stuff, my weekend was quite eventful; I went on a blind date with an NFL player.  That’s right, the normal cheating lying bastards aren’t good enough.  Now, I have to date people who even the Virgin Mary herself would sleep with if given the chance.

It was more of a blind do your friend a favor so it’s not totally awkward and I have an escape plan if this goes terribly wrong double date.  My friend Celia was asked on a date by a guy she went to high school with and some how I got roped into it because she didn’t want to go alone and who better to set The Gizzy up with to really teach her a life lesson than an arrogant 23 year old NFL player who has been around the block.  Twice.

The adventure started out seemingly normal.  We downed your standard 2-3 bottles of wine ate some pasta and some steak then I threw up a little in my mouth when I realized where our dinner conversation had gone.  It went something like so…

NFL: So, Gizzy what do you do?

G: I work with research foundations, what about you?

NFL: I play in the NFL.

G: Oh, that’s nice.

NFL: Yeah, I only live here a few months out of the year.  Do you like football?

G: Not really.

NFL: What sports do you like?

G: I guess basketball.

NFL: Oh speaking of basketball, a few weeks ago I hooked up with Big City Butts Star Player’s fiancé.  It was so funny.  ‘Cause then, Big City Butts Star player called me up and was like, “Hey man wtf I’m going to come kick your ass.” And I was like, “Man I can take you, here’s my address, my door’s unlocked for you bro.”  Pretty much the funniest day ever.

G: Sounds like it.

I’m guessing the date was pretty much over when I said I didn’t like football.  I checked out after this point and just made it my mission to get as drunk as possible courtesy of this guy.

After dinner I had a decent buzz when they said we were going to go by one of their friend’s places to drink a few beers before we went to the club.  Fine by me.  The more booze the better.  Bring it onnnn!! I was planning on testing how much alcohol I could drink before getting embarrassing.  El experimente!

We were finishing up a game of pool when Celia pulled me aside:

C: OMG! Did you hear them talking about doing Molly? (For those of you who don’t know Molly is ecstasy but some kind of pure/supped up version from what I’ve heard.)

G: NOOO!!! Do you think they did it?

C: I don’t know, they went in the room for a while with the door closed.  If they did let’s get out of here.

G: How do we tell? Do the pupils get bigger or smaller?

C: Bigger.

G: Ok you distract them I’ll look at their pupils.

If the date wasn’t already headed for the dumps the next plan of attack would have for sure ruined any kind of connection I had with this guy.

Celia pulled them over and asked them to look to see if her retainer was still stuck to her teeth.  Alas, their eyes were focused.  3 heads trying to look into 1 person’s mouth is not an ideal situation.  Basically they thought I was like the weirdest person ever because while they were looking in Celia’s mouth I was positioning myself so that I could stare perfectly into their eyes and see if I saw any crazy.  Thank god I did not, at least not the kind we were looking for.

When it came time to head to the cluuurbb… Celia and I were both pretty much over it.  NFL was getting recognized by tons of skanks so he had his night pretty much set, Celia’s guy was creepily feeling up on her, so mission get drunk was in full force.  After half a dozen shots we went to the ladies room to re-group.   We decided it was time for a little dinner-drinking date ditch.  That’s right.  We walked out of the bathroom and got straight into a cab, after Celia fell in the middle of the street bringing tons of attention to us, of course.  So there was no awkward goodbye or the pity exchanging of the numbers between NFL and I.  I can’t say it didn’t feel amazing to ditch an asshole that gets whom and whatever he wants and then talks down to people who aren’t ripping their panties off at the sight of him because it totally did.

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