Tag Archives: traveling

To Gizzy’s house: part IV.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

Happy 4th LOL

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fair enough.

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

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

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

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

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

Us: Table for 2

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

Lucky: So ARE you staying open later?

Hostess: We’re not seating anyone right now

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

Hostess: I didn’t say you were

Lucky: Uh! Yeah, ya did!

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

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

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

But I felt worlds better.

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

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

Overall, an AWESOME visit!

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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…




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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.

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Scum of the Earth (Part 2)

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

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

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

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

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

Is anyone else’s gaydar going off?

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

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

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

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

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

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All time low.

I feel like my posts have been weak lately.  I don’t know if I’m getting lazier because I’m not sitting at home thinking up funny junk to say all day, if it’s the lack of internet, the fact that I’m not slangin’ booze for a living anymore, or the lack of interesting in my life.  None the less, I’m going to try and step it up.  After all, St. Patty’s Day weekend is coming up so if all else fails something good is bound to happen out of an entire day of drinking.   Plus I ordered one of these shirts in green to wear because I thought it would be a good conversation starter with the fellas:

They’re going to be all, what’s with the ISH? And I’m going to be like, eh you know.  Then they’ll want me and I’ll have dates lined up every day next week.  And boom! That’s how it’s done betches.

Unfortunately last weekend wasn’t as great as it was originally planned out to be.  I was supposed to travel the great distance to go to Mardi Gras with the roomies which I ended up boycotting for 2 reasons, #1 Anth didn’t fix the internet in time #2 March Madness.

Allow me to elaborate.  A few days before the weekend was set to take place I gave Anth an ultimatum it was: Either fix the internet so I can do my GD taxes or I’m not going to Mardi Gras and you will have 2/9th’s less fun because of it.  Well he didn’t fix the GD internet so I said eff it, I’m not going.  Plus, March Madness is coming up and I will honest to god poke my eyeballs out with a metal pole if I have to watch 4 straight days of basketball for however many weekends that shit lasts.  So I moseyed home Friday night to get my tv, and play sims where no one could judge me.

Wigga please:

Here you’ll see my family having a birthday party and the blasted birthday cake caught on fire.  Clearly everyone is more pissed off about the crying baby then the fire so what do ya do? Throw the baby in the fire.  Problem solved.  Unfortunately the baby lived and everyone told my family they would never hang with them again because their party sucked ass, so my family got all sad cause like they lost all their friends and shit (Because who wants to be friends with people who catch a birthday cake on fire and then throw their kid in the blaze? Not me.  I’m ashamed that they’re my sims.) and they skipped work for like 4 days because they were so sad and just sat around watching tv and baking cookies.  I was like yo guys, let’s get the show on the road – this kid wants a swing set and by god he got set on fire and lived through it so we’re going to get him a flippin’ swing set, now put the cookie down and go hunt some fucking ghosts!!!!  It gets pretty intense.

Anyway, back to the weekend…my sister had some friends over, cause she’s cool and I’m not, and she has a boyfriend and I don’t (literally the exact words she “sang” to me this weekend) and they were playing dress up and shit and wanted me to do their makeup so I made them look like clowns and then I was cool again.  But then, then I spotted it.  A teeny tiny ballerina outfit hanging in my sisters closet, a size 1.  I must’ve been high on cheap makeup fumes because I took it to my mom and asked her to save it for my daughter then rubbed my stomach like only a pregnant lady would do.  Then my mom thought I was pregnant and I was all like yeah I don’t know why I did that, it was kind of weird huh.   Sometimes if I have a big food baby I have to rub it and always wonder if people think I’m like 4 months pregnant, I just didn’t think my mom would be one of them.

So yada yada… more sims, more tv, more laying in bed eating cookies, and rolling around like the biggest sloth on the planet.    Sims, tv, cookies, bed, rolling, sims, tv, cookies, bed, cookies, sims, tv…. you get the picture.

Eventually I did make it back to the big city to find that I had worked up quite an appetite on my drive back from not laying, siming, and tving all day so I made the comment to Anth that Doogie probably ate all of my snacks this weekend while he was at the apt alone.  Annnd he did.  He replaced it all and the only reason I’m even mentioning this is because I am utterly amazed at the amount of food 1 guy ate in a 48 hour span.  And we list…

2 whole bags of doritos

3 bags of cheddar cheese popcorn

3 2 liters of soda

1 package of EL fudges (I estimate a 50 count)

8 fruit snack packages

6 granola bars

and a pound of hamburger in a pear treeeeeeee.

It’s really amazing that he didn’t blow up/get type 2 diabetes from all that junk.  Granted I eat a lot of shit but it would’ve taken me a few weeks to go through all of that.

Look, my rockstar sim just proposed to a groupie so her child wouldn’t be a bastard:

You don’t have to put your heads down.  I’m embarrassed enough for myself.

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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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The Real Bloggers of…New Jersey?

I’m sure most of you recall (the most famous reindeer of all) the adventures Gizzy and I had with DDM a little more than a month ago. Thankfully, we haven’t heard from him in awhile, but I figured now would be a better time than ever to stir that pot a little further. Churn baby churnnnnnnnn!

After we had The Fight, DDM (bless his little penis, tool) found it necessary to create a fake identity and bug us some more. The first little jab came in the form of a comment request, saying this:

Jesus how old are you gals? You’ve got to be kidding me with your content. How can you write such garbage and live with yourselves? If you can insult yourselves so much, why don’t you just take a bottle of pills and do woman-kind a favor. Your existence only serves to bring us down. Yuck, show some self esteem and not this fake “we are scum sucking cunts and proud of it” wanna-be funny bullshit you pass off for writing.

And by the way, what’s up with the long left side of the screen format of your blog? How annoying to have to scroll to Japan to read this complete crrrrap!

Don’t quit your day job, or as it may be in your case, the street corner.


The comment was from a “Danielle.” Gizzy and I agreed it was pretty suspicious, as the name “Danielle” is very similar to DDM’s name and the complaints were nearly identical. It was less than a week after The Fight and “Danielle” just had an e-mail address, no blog.

Now, I want to set the record straight here. If you don’t like our blog, that’s cool. I’m really fine with it.(I’m not, if you don’t like our blog then fuck you.) I read blogs everyday that I think really suck. But do I comment and tell those people to rot in hell for it? No, I simply move on. That’s the part that I don’t get. So it isn’t that I can’t take criticism, it’s that this blog is for fun, for laughs, for shits and giggles. It’s the ONE place in my career as a writer and an editor (yes, DDM I am paid as an editor and a published writer) where I can let loose and really say what I feel.

And as for the layout of our blog? What is the freaking B.F.D?!! It’s trendy that’s what the b.f.d. is!

Anyway, “Danielle” didn’t get the comment approved, but tried to reply to ShyGuy this:

Don’t let them fool you- they know nothing. They’re a couple of immature NJ girls lacking any kind of life experience or maturity. Don’t waste your time reading this garbage page.

And since theyre so immature they don’t allow anything but praise to be posted BUT- they certainly write back anyone who criticizes them and profanely insults them, I’ll write to you privately and make sure you know this exact message.

Ummm okay wait you psycho asshole, now you’re going to privately message our readers? HA! Get a god damn life you piece of shit. Naturally, I took matters into my own hands to unleash on this fucktard, by e-mail.

To: “Danielle”
From: Lucky
Subject: (no subject)

You hate our blog, yet you read it and then wrote us a comment?

Here’s an idea, Danielle. Go fuck yourself.
Thanks love,


To: Lucky
From: “Danielle”
Subject: (no subject)

As far as that being an idea of yours- it just shows how small your brains are. Are you blonde too? Then at least you’d be living up to a stereotype.

HA HA you’re such an insecure shit I would have been impressed if you actually let the comment through but you’re so small inside you hide from the world in every way. YOU ARE A FAKE! LOL! You are what people make fun of when they attack bloggers. You’re probably a fat bloated mess who can’t get it together living a fantasy life on your blog. That explains why you have no real presence online. YOU ARE HIDING YOU INSECURE SHIT! LOL!

How about this idea? You grow the pair you talk like you have and allow all the comments you get to be posted you fucking coward cunt. Go fuck yourself you immature piece of shit excuse for a woman. It figures you’re a Jersey girl, you all tend to be spoiled brats hiding from the real world over there. You wouldn’t survive a New York minute here in the city.

To: “Danielle”
From: Lucky
Subject: (no subject)

Wow, you are really good at LOL-ing. I’m thrilled you think I’m so fucking hilarious. Listen up you fat bitch, I’m not the one who is hiding—you are! I know your name isn’t “Danielle,” it’s fucking Daniel. You’re a 40-year-old loser with nothing else to do than sit around and e-mail twenty-something white chicks all fucking day. How’s that for fake, fucking asshole?

Looks like you’re upset because no one gives a shit that we called you a name. Your readers don’t care, WordPress doesn’t care, Facebook doesn’t care, and WE don’t care.
Get a fucking life.
PS. Neither of us are from Jersey, so stop acting like you know a damn thing.
To: Lucky
From: “Danielle”
Subject: (no subject)
Wow, I guess I’m not the first one to tell you off and put you in your place huh? So much that you’re paranoid about it huh? He must have gotten to you- or was it me that got to you? What’s this guy’s e mail address so we can share our thoughts about you.

You’re so bent out of shape and insecure- know how I can tell? You call me a fat bitch, but then accuse me of being some guy… you’re not even sure of what you’re saying enough to show some consistency.

And right, you’re not from NJ- sure. That’s you being afraid your cover will be blown. Shyguy is from DC- is that where you’re from? You’d never tell, post or reveal it I’m sure, so you can feel secure being a fraudulent internet hate monger at will. You have no guts whatsoever.

On a personal level honey I pity the guy who falls for your bullshit, but what am I saying- anyone worth while will see the emptiness in you and either trump your fakeness to use you as a fuck toy and throw you away how you deserve or they will run away as fast as they can checking their shoes when they get home because finding you is like stepping in shit for sure.

At second glance you know what’s really sad- that the only people you have posting comments on your blog are either failed bloggers themselves or the never ever real kind of people who only offer fake praise in their desperation for the same in return. HA HA! PATHETIC!
You’re losing this little joust there pea brain, and if I did show you who you’re corresponding with you would shrivel up and die from the insecurity that obviously eats you alive every day – judging by you’re writing at least. Here’s a little fuel for your fire… I’ve modeled before I graduated Columbia Law. And here you are verbally jousting with me under name’s like “Lucky (indicative of a dog’s name maybe) and Gizzy (isn’t that a term for ejaculate?)” LOL!

I’m sorry, but I stopped responding. That little shit was pissing me off waaaaay too much. And clearly, nothing I say will ever get through to this asshole. No, me and Gizzy aren’t from New Jersey (I WISH!) I haven’t even ever been there. And no, we aren’t from DC. And we don’t live there. If we did, I think we’d be hanging out with ThoughtsAppear. And I’d clearly be trying to get it on with ShyGuy. Yep, yep!
And we love our readers. They are not failed bloggers. THEY ARE AWESOME!!!!! THE BEST!!! Which is why “Danielle”/DDM isn’t allowed in on all of our fun. Because he is a loser posing as a model from Columbia Law. What the hell?
Now, this is the part where I tell you what DDM WOULD HAVE DONE, had I not predicted his every next move.  After reading this post he would’ve sent us a comment/email saying how we’re racist drunk bitches blah blah blah and how we need to grow up and LOLZZZZ he should write for us because he’s sooooo cool and a way better writer than our kid’s cat could ever be because he writes about “stuff that matters,” like racism and dedicating websites to his ex gf who saw the light and got the eff out of that relationship.  But now he won’t because he’s so predictable, which is how we knew the fake commenter Danielle was really him.  Not only the name, but also by these KEY words and their punctuation: LOL!, consistency, Jersey, and this phrase: shit excuse for a woman.
Who wants to be in the 2014 class of Gizzy’s School of Law? BOOM.  Eat it DDM.
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