Tag Archives: sex

13. What’s the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you?

LUCKY

I don’t know if there’s one thing that stands out above the rest. When I was in second grade I pissed my pants at school, which was really embarrassing, but who cares now? I also barfed at school when I was young, but once again, who cares?

I feel like I’ve done some embarrassing stuff during sex (attempting to show a guy the finished product in my mouth only to have it fall out all over myself)<—too much?? (Editors Note: OMG!)

I farted once in front of D, it was silent, but DEADLY and he was pretty grossed out, but he was a bastard so now I don’t care…

GIZZY

Psh. I have done A LOT of embarrassing stuff. I could write a 50,000 word book on all the embarrassing stuff I’ve done. But I’ll just tell you one story that I haven’t ever confessed to anyone, enough time has passed now that I can be like eh whatever. COLLEGE.

My first college boyfriend and I had just broken up but decided to “stay friends” and his frat was having an 80s themed party the following weekend.  My roommates and I got all decked out in our 80s garb, I was looking good which put me in the mood to drink.  I don’t know how many beer bongs I took, probably a hundred. But it ended up being one of the drunkest nights of my life. I caused a fist fight because I was so drunk that when I saw one of my good guy friends my legs went running to hug him but the top half of me stayed in place, causing me to fall backwards flat on my back and sling my full beer all over the crowd behind me.  I of course was oblivious to the fight that had started because everyone in the crowd were all blaming each other saying the others had thrown a beer on them. 

There were these stupid slutty freshman there that I hated (I was a sophomore), that would always come to the frat and flirt with my boyfriend (while we were still dating). Of course that night they hung out in his room all night and he didn’t care about me and practically ignored me the whole night. Which caused me to do even more beer bongs. At some point in the night (early) I either laid down or was placed on the BRAND NEW couch (the pledges worked hard to buy the couch) that was still in a party area but not the most crowded party area. I laid there while various people came to keep me company and talk to me throughout the night because I was too drunk to walk. At some point I barfed down the side of the couch. A guy that I was good friends with had come to clean it off the couch, because it was new and people were freaking out about it. Throughout the course of the night my skirt worked its way up around my stomach, so I was just laying on the couch in fishnets with my underoos hanging out for all to see. As the guy was cleaning the couch he tried pulling the skirt down so no one could see my goods, which made me think he was trying to rape me or some shit and got him slapped in the face. A few minutes later the rest of my body let loose and I shit my fishnets.  Uh yes, this is why you should not let your daughters go away to college. Thankfully everyone thought that was also puke and they cleaned it up while I laid in it.

Eventually my stupid exboyfriend came down to walk me home (it was around 4am). During our walk he put his face right next to the literal shit all over my skirt to smell it and said, “It looks like you sat in something, I can’t tell what it is.” I was all, “Hmm yeah I don’t know.” Then proceeded to make out with him with puke breath and invite him to my room to watch a movie, to which he declined. Being upset about my rejection, I went into my apartment where my roommates were all asleep, emptied out my shit filled underwear onto our bathroom rug (and left only the shit there), and took a shower.  

When my roommates and I all woke up in the morning we found the shit on the bathroom rug which got blamed on my roommate’s boyfriend’s dog who was staying with us for the weekend.  Another roommate also woke up to discover that her tv had been knocked off of her dresser and her room TPed.  I don’t remember doing either of those things, but I can only assume that I was the guilty party. Shame.

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Wait for a Minute.

Anyone heard Justin Bieber’s new song, feat. Tyga, “Wait for a Minute”? …Because it is AWESOME.

Between hearing that on Friday and seeing The Biebs walk with Maywether to the ring, my love for Bieber has been rekindled. Not that it was on the rocks or anything.

BULGeRzIgAAvreF.jpg-large

Alright, enough of the bullshit, it’s time I come clean about me and this trainer. Here is what you need to know. His name is CR and he is a professional fighter and he’s really, really hot.

I want to post a picture of his naked body for you; but he has many distinctive tattoos that would give him away. After all, he was on a reality TV show last year.

When he started training at my gym, I was still dating D. I took a few of his classes, but honestly didn’t think much of it.

And then when D and I broke up, I thought he was cute. Then I thought he was kinda hot. Then I thought he was sexy as hell.

You know how it is.

At the gym, he would always talk to Marcy, but not me, so I thought maybe he was into her. Then one day he asked me why I never took his class.

“I do,” I said.

And that was that.

Then around mid-August, we added each other on Facebook.

That’s also the same time I discovered he was engaged.

A few days later, at the gym, I told him he was a pussy—really just kidding around. He told me I would pay for it during my next workout.

And he kicked. My. Ass.

“This is all your fault,” he said.

The next day, he sent me a message on Facebook saying he hoped I wasn’t sore…

Two days later, we had phone sex.

We started sending nasty sexts to each other—(in no order):

CR: That ass will be in my hands pulling down

ME: I want to get on top so you can touch

CR: I have my hands on that ass while you wrap ya legs around me against the wall

…Since then, we’ve sent nearly 8,000 messages to each other, including pictures, and we’ve had sex a handful (pun intended) of times.

I know, you’re probably ready to throw your computer or mobile device out the window right now, saying: LUCKY!!!! WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?! HAVEN’T YOU BEEN HERE BEFORE?? YOU’RE INVITING BAD KARMA YOUR WAY…

Yes, yes I know.

I don’t have answers for you.

The only thing I can say is that I’m blaming it on D. I just couldn’t have him be the last person I slept with.

And although CR is engaged AND living with his fiancee, I can say without a doubt, he is THE hottest guy I’ve ever fucked, and it’s some of the best sex I’ve ever had.

That’s nothing to feel bad over, right?

I don’t feel an emotional attachment like I did when I was sleeping with the married guy…which is good.

I hate to say it, but I feel pretty bitter about men these days, so it doesn’t surprise me that CR is willing to cheat on his gorgeous-pharmacist of a fiancee. Because he’s a guy and that’s what guys do, right?

So, if he’s going to cheat, it may as well be with me.

Let the haters, hate.

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , ,

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!

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

To Gizzy’s house: part III.

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

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

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

Christ.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Here’s mine: Best tat EVER!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So, we walk back to Gizzy’s…

TO BE CONTINUED…

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

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…

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

The Rhyming Big City Adventures of Gizzy and Lucky

A poem to re-hash our weekend in the big city, full stories to come later:


Twas the night before Lucky’s birthday when she was set to arrive

Airline complications occurred and she wished she could drive

For she was stuck, overnight, in a land called Texas

Lucky for her she met a chap at a bar who drove a pretty sweet Lexus

With only the clothes on her back, the day of her birth she arrived

For she had made it, thank god she survived

It was time to drink, beer one, beer two, not yet

For Lucky’s bag was still on the jet

A second trip to the airport started the day off right

We found Lucky’s bag, it had made the flight

Back to the apartment we went

Where we found an underage gent

“Take a shot, take a shot” he spattered

With all these young boys, we were sure to get flattered

We drank the day old, then washed our hair up right

For it was time to hit the town for the night

We had an occasion to celebrate, our dear friend Lucky

There was no way this night could be sucky

Off to dinner we went, a sushi place, our fave

Get Lucky a birthday cake, that there, the chocolate wave

Dinner was good, now to concoct phase II in our head

I know! Let’s paint the town red

To bar 1 we went, the drinks were ordered, the atmosphere was set

Too bad there were no boys around to make us wet (ehhh…sorry, there was 1 but he didn’t rhyme)

Bar 2, on Gizzy, on Lucky, on Cabby, and fro

Keep these drinks flowing so we can act like a ho

Danced the night away we sure did

At Bar 3 we met a man dressed as a kid

His name was Danny, and a billionaire he claimed to be

Then he fell, taking the table down, and banging his knee

We felt good, just enough beers to blur the lights

Lets head back to my place and start some fights

To my apartment we went, not sure what we’d find

We walked in and saw a guy’s behind

Someone’s in my bed, who could it be?

An old friend, wake up, come play mouse trap with me

Continue drinking we did as we set up the game

And heard stories that would surely ashame

One last surprise before we call it a night

A birthday cake, 26 candles gleaming with light

There were just enough people to sing her a song

Blew out the candles Lucky did and wished for a dong

Off to bed we go, an early day it will be

We have lots of new attractions and boys to see!

Day 2 began with a flutter

Thank god the smell of alcohol didn’t make us shutter

We left for a ball game, who would win, we don’t know!

As it was just our luck, today the cab business was slow

We walked, and walked, and finally got a ride

We arrived at the game gleaming with pride

Looked around we did, for a scalper with tickets

It was not our day, all we heard were crickets

Back in the cab we went, onward to a festival we go!

We were ready to see the beer flow

The beers were all drank, the food was all eaten

Next up, to the sub-way, lets hope we don’t get beaten

Onward we marched on the way to the train, where we found a small pub

We walked in and what did we see? Girls, with boobies and flub

A beer and a shot we had

Until we decided it was time to return to my pad

To my abode we arrived

To find nothing, but a bunch of guys who were deprived

They begged us to drink, so drink we did

Until we got drunk

And along came a punk

Bill was his name

Football was his fame

But, he was a douche and lame

Next it was time for a roast

The groom to be, step up, he thought it was a toast

We all said our piece, and the boom boom started

It’s not what you think, no one farted

For they were fireworks, right there

We got lucky none landed in our hair

We all watched in amazement, for they were the best fireworks ever!

Well, that’s done, on to the next endeavor

On to the bars we go

We still haven’t acted like a ho

All dolled up we got

We looked damn hot

Down the stairs we went

To find nothing, but a guy with a weird accent

We had been left, oh well, these fools won’t ruin our fun

We were still going out, in our mind we won

At the bar we sat with our drinks in hand

When along came a girl, she wanted to be our frand (Um, I know… I’m lame)

Her name was Miranda and we loved all the shots she bought us

If we had only knew, her boyfriend would make a fuss

We closed down the bar and trotted home

Passed out in bed and silenced the phone

In the morning we awoke ready to start the day

We gathered our things and were off to play

We arrived at the beach to celebrate the USA

We drank some more, fought with some kids, and peed on the beach, hey hey!

The day was over and it was time for the fireworks

We walked and walked until we arrived, we sat down with our drinks and put on a smirk

We watched the fireworks in awe

Then trampled inside hoping not to fall

We got some dinner, some wine, and we on our way

We arrived back home, for Lucky was ready to lay

The next morning arrived and some sad pups we were

It was Lucky’s last day, I sure would miss her

We went to the carnival and rode some rides

We were quite proud, this weekend we made great strides

Off to the airport we went, to tell Lucky goodbye

She hopped on her plane, she was ready to fly…

 

THE END

 

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

RIP my car

Ellooooo governa! This is going to be short and sweet as I’ve had one of the longest most whirlwind days of my life (talking about Wednesday here, not Thursday).  Not only was work hell and I made the executive decision to try and go through all of my emails and stay until 7pm when I should’ve left at 4 I came home to find one of my old college friends Periwinkle at my apartment.

I should back up a little, yes Lucky is coming to my house this weekend and I am SOOOOO excited, but Anth is also hosting a bachelor party of 20 guys at our house.  Hrmph.  Lucky and I have a list of things to do and places to be so hopefully they don’t get in the way.   Anyway, it’s Periwinkle’s bachelor party and he came in town yesterday to do some business before hand.

So when I got home, instead of doing my normal lay in my bed and nap for 3 hours, eat some dinner, and go back to bed I had to sit downstairs and socialize.  AND miss The Voice 😦 so not fair.  So I was already feeling a little out of my element.

9pm rolled around and I decided I should go tanning since I have 2 days left on my contract.  So I go and on my way home BAM CRASH BOOM.  Car accident.  I knew it was inevitable with traffic being the way it is here and the 8 million people, but I would’ve never guessed I would’ve gotten in an accident at 10 o’clock at night when there is 0 traffic.

So what happened? I’m minding my own business driving home and was about .2 miles from my apartment, like literally had to turn a corner and I’d be home when I go down a little slope and run into the side of this chick’s car.  She was pulling out of a parallel parking space and I don’t know she seemed pretty dingy, so she probably didn’t even look to see if any cars were coming.  I tried to stop but it didn’t happen.  My car is drivable… but it looks pretty rough…

So after I slam into the side of this girl’s car a guy jumps out and is looking at the damage, I fall out of my car like I almost died and he asks if I’m ok, I say yeah and dig through my purse to find my phone to call the cops all the while the driver is just sitting in the car.  I’m all, “Uhh is she ok?” And he’s like “Oh she hit her head.”  Eventually she gets out and says she’s fine, the cops tell us if the cars are driveable they’re not coming and we should just exchange information and come to the police station within 48 hours to file a report.  Some city huh?

So we do, by this time it’s pushing 10 (my bedtime) and I don’t feel like subjecting myself to a big city police station before bed.   The couple tells me they are going to go tonight to get it over with and I tell them I’m going to go tomorrow to kick off my vacation the right way. We leave and 30 minutes later I get a call from them saying they’re at a police station in the suburbs and the cops told them to tell me not to file another police report because having 2 would make it confusing.  Hrmmm… ok, and they also didn’t need a statement from me.  It’s weird.  They gave me a report number so I’m going to go to the police station and see if they’ll give me a copy of the report.  

BUT, I googled it and in anyway shape or form this accident is this girls fault, whether they filed the report or I did…. people pulling out of parking spots have to yield to oncoming traffic no matter what so I guess I should chillax.  

My poor little old car, now every time I go over a bump it makes this horrifying sound like it wants to die.  Stay strong car, stay strong, help is coming in the form of an insurance check. 

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Being single is saving me that $bling$bling$ in FURs

Saturday night was a typical Saturday “Date Night” evening for me.  I cuddled up on my parent’s couch with a good flick (Gnomeo and Juliet) and some brewskis and tucked myself in bed by midnight with my first non-alcoholic beverage of the day.

Just before I went to bed I hopped on the comp to see if “Find Lauren Day” was a success (it was not, 😦 sad), and when my comcast browser opened there was a story that caught my eye under the “Finance” category, the title? “Attention Singles: The True Price of Love” The subtitle? “7 SHOCKING Expenses of Romance.”  So I read, and I will paraphrase for the sake of space and voice my opinions of how much bullshit this article is the whole way through it.  If anyone doesn’t like my paraphrasing or comments and wants to read the article for them-Stupid-self, there you go.  But honestly, my version is way better.

1. Dinner Out On the Town  – Dinner at Delmonicos New York’s first fine dining restaurant.  Starters, you: $10 market salad – date: $26 shelfish chateau Main Course: you: some chicken dish for $28 date: $90 double porterhouse add in wine, desert, and all that other shit and you’ll be racking up a bill of at least $300.

Ummmm… I’m sorry, but who the fuck are these people dating that they have dinner dates on the reg costing $300? I know top medical professionals who would not drop $300 on a dinner date.  #2 Assuming this article is aimed toward men, because AHA! Why would a woman ever give 2 shits about how much a relationship is, we don’t have to pay for anything.  But, what woman is going to order a $90 double porterhouse after you just ordered a measly $28 piece of chicken?  A BITCH! That’s who, that’s when you excuse yourself and get the fuck out of there and leave her with the bill.  Bitch. 

2. Special Occasion Cards – Valentines Day, Birthday Cards, Cards to Say “I’m Sorry”, cards for your significant other’s family members on their birthday’s and anniversaries.  Estimated cost: $20 – $35 per year.

If the guy I’m dating can’t shell out 25 bucks a year to buy me a damn card on my birthday we’ve got bigger problems than birthday cards.

3. Gifts Just Because – Basically they tell a story about how people buy each other gifts for no reason and say liberated women don’t believe in Valentine’s Day.  

Every girl believes in Valentine’s Day if they have someone.  Give me a fucking break.  That’s like saying women hate diamonds and flowers.  And again, I go back to my who the fuck are these people dating where they get gifts for no reason? Clearly Lucky and I aren’t picking the winners.  No really, we already knew this, but are there really guys out there that will buy you lavish presents for no reason? Not like Donald Trump, normal guys that we actually have a chance with.  Think a Banker’s salary here.  It’s doubtful.

4. Wrapping Her In Furs  – $200+ but they like the $10,000+ coats from FurOutlets.com

Ummmm… does anyone outside of 1920 know anyone who wears a Fur coat for real? I actually do, but we won’t go there.  Ok we will, it’s Snoop-Linus’ mom.  And also Lucky and Buttons, but their Furs are fake and hilarious.  I thought everyone had kind of decided Fur coats were on the outs? I’m going to take a leap of faith and say when I get to the end of this article I’m going to see that it was written by a man because he clearly doesn’t know SHIT.  A fur coat would go nice with my quellazaire though. 

5. Flowers Say it for You – They say to avoid spending too much buy flowers for “no reason” during non-holiday times.

No comment here.  Cheapskate.

6. Pricing In The Hardware – $220 gets you 1/6 of a carat diamond ring.  3 figure minimum to make the right impression.

Now we’re talking.  Hey everyone, come check out my sixth of a carat!!  Any guy reading this should take this as a piece of advice: Skip the $300 Delmonico dinners, birthday cards, and Fur coats and splurge for the $200 engagement ring.  3 figures, really? I would like to assume anyone who can afford to spend $300 on dinner should be able to afford to spend more than a dinner would cost on jewelry.

7. What Happens Once You Commit – $1500 extra a year in high income marriage penalties.

Don’t worry, he saved that money when he bought the $220 1/6th of a carat engagement ring.

Annnnd drumroll please…. written by a woman.  I’m wrong, BUT she’s probably never been on a date or had a boyfriend.  Clearly.  I mean I am fully aware that being single is way cheaper than being in a relationship, but being in a relationship is not as expensive as this slorebag makes it out to be.  I guess I need to cut her a break, there isn’t much going on in finance right now with interest rates sitting pretty at 0%.

But, if these are the things women are demanding out of relationships these days I need to up my anti and put a fox fur coat with matching fox on my wish list.  Then again, I don’t plan on being that girl standing on the corner wearing my fur coat and cracker jack box ring, so maybe I’m good.  Yeah, I’m good.

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Missing Girl

It’s finally Friday and I personally could not be happier.  I’m heading home for the weekend to see an old friend and hang out with my wang out.  I’m so thankful to get away from the boys for the weekend, they’re driving me insane.  Anth mentioned “having to put up with my bitchiness lately” after I told him I wasn’t home and couldn’t preheat the oven for him, like really? Assholes.

Anyway, has anyone been following this missing student case at Indiana University? I’ve never found myself reading up on these missing persons cases but this one has particularly caught my attention.  I had a good friend from high school move to Indiana to work at IU after college, 2 summers ago Betty and I made the jaunt to visit her there and we went to this Kilroy’s Sports Bar that this girl was at the night she disappeared.  

First I’ll say I wasn’t impressed with it, it was definitely a sketchy bar in a super sketchy area and we met sketchy people while we were there.  My friend’s sister was visiting the same weekend and some how found these guys in from out of town.  They said they had a cabin in the woods and we should all come back with them.  Betty and I instantly said no but my friend and her sister wanted to smoke pot and these guys had it so of course they were all for it.  

Eventually we got my friend and her sister to agree it wasn’t a good idea and tell the guys we were just going home.  They insisted on giving us a ride to our car that was like a mile away maybe since it was raining out and all.  I of course noticed that the driver was pounding shots all night saying how wasted he was who then insisted he was fine.  We got in because we were stupid and thought what was the worst that could happen if they were just driving us down the street? 

Me, Betty, my friend, and her sister were all in the back row of the Tahoe and there were 5-6 guys in the front and middle rows.  The next thing I know they pass the car and head into the woods  East of the city “toward their cabin.”  I freaked out and started beating on the window with an umbrella that was in the back seat demanding they let us out.  They refused to stop so I started screaming that I was calling the police if they didn’t let us out.  Finally when I put the phone on speaker as I dialed 911 the guy pulled over and Betty, my friend and I all jumped out while her sister sat in the car and insisted on going to this cabin.  Really?!! Dumbass.  So we coaxed her out of the car and suddenly the guys wanted to be nice guys and were all, “We’re not leaving you in the middle of the woods.” And I’m all, “Well we’re not getting back in your damn car you creeps.” So they drove off and left us. 

We walked a while to we made it to some Boy Scout post and I 411ed us a cab – that never came.  After a while I called another one and finally at 5am one of them actually came.  Scariest night of my life, hands down; I can only imagine what that poor girl has gone through.  That night showed me how easy it would be to get abducted by someone and not even realize it until it was too late I was relatively sober and still felt helpless, I couldn’t even begin to imagine being as inebriated as the news articles are saying she was and have someone abduct you or have a friend harm you.  Just wow. None the less, this girl has been on my mind a lot the past few weeks and I hope they find her soon safe and sound.

In other news…like Lucky mentioned yesterday, we did our single girl date night alone Wednesday night.  My night started out a little rough but ended up an overall success I’d say.  My whole plan was to go to this bar where I thought the wallstreet type hung out after work.  I wandered around the building and only found a public transit station.  Blah! (Which I drove by again today and there is definitely a bar there! I just don’t know how to get to it.  Blast!)

Anyway, after 30 minutes of searching for a parking spot and another 30 wandering the downtown streets I finally came across a little pub attached to a non-franchise high class hotel.  From the outside looking in all I saw were men in suits. Ba-ba-BINGO! 

I walked in, told the hostess I’d sit at the bar, and made my way down the right side of the bar looking for a seat (the place was packed!) A (hot) guy jumped up and told me I could have his seat because he had been sitting all day, the seat was directly behind a giant pole, but who was I to complain?  I thanked him, sat down, and ordered a glass of Merlot.  

Then, the guy leans in over my shoulder and says, “I know I gave you my seat, but you have to promise not to have too great of a conversation with that pole.”  I giggled and messed with my hair.  I’m not good at flirting anymore, like what should I have said? Do you want to go next door and get a room? IDK! Then he asked if I was meeting anyone there.  I told him no, that I was just stopping in for a drink after work to avoid the bad traffic.  He told me I was a smart girl and then just lingered around for the next 10-15 minutes until he disappeared forever.  During his lingering time the guy next to me offered to scoot down so the guy could sit next to me and he declined.  Sad 😦 I feel like I should’ve made an attempt to keep the convo going, but I was so nervous!

The guy who was sitting next to me later apologized for offering the hot guy his seat.  He claimed he thought we were together and that he thought the guy wanted to sit next to me. No, no, I’m not that cool. YET! Sighhhh…. It was a good first attempt at the Patti Stanger project, I guess.

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,