What NOT to do...

Okay so I just had a hillarious conversation with Joe about what NOT to do when dating... or actually what not to do in life in general. Here is what I have compiled thus far:

DO NOT....
1. Kiss like a chamilion or any given amphibian or reptile. Girls do not like it when you flick us with your tongue.
2. Cry, under any circumstances when you are naked. Maybe this is okay if you are in the shower and you fall down. This is not okay however, when you are with a girl and kinda messing around and then you start talking and then start bawling. And then go sit on her couch. Don't do that. Ever.
3. Say you are going to come see your girlfriend but then cancel because it is raining. Really, who is scared of the rain? Come on.
4. Say you would willingly kiss another guy if you are, in fact, a guy! This needs no further explanation.
5. Call someone by a nickname of any sort especially when you have not okayed it with that person. Do not shorten my name if you have not asked me if that is okay. If you are Megan and Joe you can call me Nic. The End.
6. Try to be me. That's cool if you want to date me. When you start talking like me, walking like me and in general, acting like me, you are no longer cool. I wanted a boyfriend, not a parrot.
7. Fan yourself and complain like a seven year old girl that "ugh, it's so hot" when you are in Overtime on a Saturday night. What the hell else would you expect?
8. Lie about having a girlfriend. If you have one, don't act like you don't. That's just wrong.
9. Do a strip tease, unless it for pure amusement. Guys just cannot be sexy when bouncing around and trying to take off layers of clothing. That will always be funny.
10. Tell a girl you can see her having your babies when you have not actually ever even dated her. Creepy.

While I am sure there are many more assonine things one could do while dating or while living in general, these are the few most ridiculous things that I could think of. All of which have actually happened to me. Feel free to make fun. I did.

I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas!

Here is a fantastic Christmas song that I would like to share with you. It's called "I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas." Erin, this is mostly for you. So, here we go. And for the rest of you wonderfuls, if you ask nicely, we just might sing it for you...

I want a hippopotamus for Christmas
Only a hippopotamus will do
I don't want a doll, no dinkey tinker toys
I want a hippopotamus to play with and enjoy

I want a hippopotamus for Christmas
I don't think Santa Claus will mind, do you?
He won't have to use a dirty chimney flue
Just bring him through the front door
That's the easy thing to do

I can see me now on Christmas morning
Creeping down the stairs
Oh what joy, what surprise
When I open up my eyes
To see a hippo hero standing there

I want a hippopotamus for Christmas
Only a hippopotamus will do
No crocodiles, no rhinosauruses
I only likes hippopotamuses
And hippopotamuses like me, too!

Merry Christmas, everyone!

I love you guys!

The Esso Club Christmas Party Extravaganza

Last night was the Esso Christmas party. Open bar. Lord. I took Joe as my fill-in date. He's a pro (thank you!) That cute boyfriend of mine was snowboarding and couldn't come get drunk with me. Booo. But I think it's safe to say that we had a good time. There was enough food to feed a small country and the alcohol that was consumed was at a sinful level.
I think I got drunk fast. The party started at 5:00. By 6:30 there was already booty dancing. Misty and Candle got that started for us -- I joined shortly after. I took a break at one point and I was just chillin out with Joe, Jabba and Wiggins. Apparently Wiggins made some comment along the lines of "Jabba is a sex offender." I heard "Jabba is a sexy panda." No idea... I was thoroughly confused and the boys found it to be extremely hillarious. I was made fun of for the rest of the night. I was also hit on for the majority of the night by Charles the owner. Interesting... Apparently he likes tall, dark haired girls with big boobs and since my boobs were kind of stealing the show, as Misty put it, I guess that made me a prime candidate to be hit on. Don't worry, Dave, I held my own... and after the shit I went through Saturday night/Sunday morning with one particular idiot, I can definitely be a monumental bitch if need be. Ha. I actually didn't really have to do much... just kinda walk away since he was so ridiculously drunk he didn't notice if I was there or not. Candice, our manager, gave us all these adorable glass ornaments that say Esso. Very cute - and thoughtful. We also did a Chinese Christmas gift exchange where you draw numbers and pick gifts and then you can steal or whatever. The gift I choose first was some shot glasses and a black and white picture of the Esso. It was stolen so I was able to choose another. It was so appropriate that I picked the gift that was a game called "What the F*ck?" How hysterical is that?! Its all these funny ass hypotheticals like "you're in prison for the rest of your life, do you want your cell mate to be (a) an angry cross-dresser or (b) an anorexic gang member." Oh I cannot wait to have another drunken board game night!
I had my fill of vanilla vodka and diet coke and ate all the dip, vegetables, and sausage balls I could stand by about 10:30. Joe and I goofed around for about another hour and then decided to head home. The party was really fun. I convinced myself that I needed a 30 minute bath when I got home. I don't know why really. I just sat there and talked to the cats. Whatever. And I didn't feel too much like tootie today when I woke up. Yay for the Esso Christmas party! Oh yeah and go look at the pictures in the December album to better appreciate the drunken fun that was had.

The Six Pack Does Charleston... Again

So we went to Charleston the weekend of Dec. 2. I suppose that Joe, Dave and I were just sick of Clemson and needed a change of scenery -- and I was in dire need of a mind eraser and an apple bomb with Megan DuPree. We didn't get down there until like 11:00 Friday night, due to idiot drivers and also a stop in Simpsonville for some pizza. We definitely made up for lost time though, because as soon as we walked in the bar we were drunk. We rode in Adrian's monster truck... really -- like the thing can barely fit in the parking garage -- and then we had to walk 9 miles to get to Purple Tree. Well, it seemed like 9 miles because I wore those slutty silver shoes of mine that look hot but are quite possibly the worse than walking on nails.
Michael and Emily met us there -- Yay! I hadn't seen Emily in so long, so it was really nice to see her. We all just sat in a booth and made fun of people all night. I don't know if someone made the decision that all the bad dancers in Charleston should go to Purple Tree that night, but holy hell, every person on that dance floor was a moron. There was one guy just flailing around with no purpose at all, another guy that was just stepping from side to side but not even with the beat and then there were these two really large girls with too little clothing and too much energy bumbling about the dance floor.
I think because of this ridiculousness, Dave felt compelled to buy Mind Erasers. Three 6 ways. Jesus.Christ. So we paired up for the drinks, because they didn't make them into shots -- they were just 3 gigantic glasses of disaster waiting to happen. Dave and I took one glass, Emily and Michael took another... leaving Joe and Adrian the last one to share. They kinda looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders, mumbled something about not being gay and just drank it. And really, they weren't kidding when they named it a Mind Eraser. They never kid about that drink. We all got waaaaasted.
We had to make a stop at McDonald's for some chicken nuggets on the way home. And Joe had to get out and pee in the McDonald's bushes. He had decided that he would crouch down and start saying "here kitty kitty" if for some
reason cops saw him in the bushes... nevermind the fact he was completely drunk off his ass. Good in theory, I suppose. Luckily there were no cops. Just chicken nuggets. So we ate all those and then passed out.
We all woke up pretty hung over Saturday. Sonic was the cure. And watching Eurotrip. We literally sat on our asses until 7:00 pm that night when we went out for the night. And this time, I had Megan with me! Woo hoo!! We ate at Wild Wings and then ran over to Henry's to begin the drinking. Amaretto Sours were apparently my choice of
drug for the evening because I had about 9 of them I think. On top of some Jager Bombs and other funness. Okay, well Dave got drunk in a hurry and was using me as a support beam before we ever left Henry's. I was getting a nice buzz by this time and started getting silly. Megan kept slamming her head into these bricks of doom that were sticking out of the wall behind her. So we decided it was time to change bars. We went to 213.
Well, I think I was drunk there because Megan was wearing this scarf thing that I could not for the life of me remember the name. I looked at it, back an
d her and then back at the scarf-like object. I was like, "what is this called again? A creme brulle?" She about fell out of her chair. Unknownst to me... the dame scarf is called a Pashmina. Say it with me. Pash-mi-na. Not creme brulle. Who knew? They were playing awesome 80s music so we all felt extremely compelled to sing along. While I cannot remember exactly what song we were singing, it must have been something very intense about love or something because otherwise, we would not look quite so ridiculous. Well maybe... We had some shots, bumbled around, drank some more, took about 86 pictures and then decided it was that time. The best time of the night: City Bar time.
The minute we made it to the bar, the bartender was lining up shots for us. Megan is good friends with the owner and the bartender so we were priority there. Yay for Megan. Apple Bombs for all. Mmmm, heaven. So Megan and I started shaking our asses. Then we had to go back for more drinks. This time it was a Beam and Coke for me, a raspberry martini for Meg, and a double Jager Bomb (that had not enough bomb whatsoever). Mr. Bartender only charged us $12 for all of that! Hell.Yes. This called for a celebration -- on the platform with the pole. It's tradition. Megan and I cannot go to City Bar without completely making a scene on this pole. Ah, how I Iove shaking my ass. So I don't really know what caused it, but Megan decided that using her belt for a prop was the best idea of the night. It was quite amusing. I think I have a picture with ever person using the belt in a different way. You'll need to check out my pictures for the full effect. We closed down City Bar and went home. It was such a bad ass night. Way fun.
Well, when we got home, Dave and I got into "serious talk" mode. And we ended up sitting on the bathroom floor for almost 2 hours. When we finally came out and decided to go to bed, we realized that Joe was not in his designated spot on the couch. We freaked out and thought he left. So Dave went to the jeep to get a flashlight and started searching the jeep, the truck bed, the bushes and the backyard. We couldn't find Joe anywhere! So we started searching every room in the house. We found him on the floor next to so unpacked boxes with our comforter... passed out. Jackass. Had me scared as hell. I thought he ran away. Gah, Joe. So we fell asleep.
Woke up hung over again. Ugh. This time we went and ate the hell out of some crazy good Italian food. Mmmm. We finally left Charleston. We almost had to stop to steal the sign that said Speed Hump Steve's Step Mom. That was funny. We stopped at my house in Simpsonville for some real food and then came back to Clemson to pass out again. Hell of a good weekend. I think we all needed it. And the six-pack got to reunite -- always a good time. I love you guys!

Bye Noodles

Tucker and Twister ate Noodles on Sunday. And I don't mean pasta. I mean Noodles the Fish. Bastards. See, I had these boxes specifically built for the apartment that would hang on the wall and be completely out of the cats' reach. This plan worked until I put this cute Christmas decoration on top of the book shelf that was directly under my special wall boxes-- this allowed Tucker to use the Christmas decoration as a step and literally climb the boxes on the wall, all the way to the top one that was housing Noodles. He knocked down Noodles' bowl and Twister ate him. Candle walked in on the crime scene. I know this is the way that the murder was performed because I put the empty Noodles' bowl back in the box on the wall and I watched Tucker reenact the entire thing. Asshole. In celebration of Noodles' life, we had fishsticks for dinner. I don't think we meant to, we just happened to eat that. Kinda morbid. And kinda funny too. Poor Noodles.

In other news, I have a fabuously tacky Christmas tree.

The Halloween Party

What do you get when you mix the Blues Brothers, the Ambiguously Gay Duo, a French maid, a black cat, an Ipod, a girlscout, a Catholic school girl, a guy that refuses to dress up,and a wrestler? The 102 F Halloween Bash, that's what! Ha. So hmm, imagine that, we found an excuse to drink ourselves through another Friday night. I got to the boys' apartment at 7:00 and started hanging decorations. Mistake. See, my little maid costume doesn't exactly allow for extensive movement, or any movement for that matter. Like seriously, I couldn't drink my fruity concoction without showing my ass. So hanging spider webs was a slight disaster... once the apartment was decorated, we were just sitting around drinking and waiting for our Beezers to get here. (Beezers is ridiculously good cheap drunk food in the form of 8 inch subs for those of you unfortunate enough to have never expereinced the Beezer.) We had the door open because the apartment was so hot. I was prancing around with my feather duster, Michael was doing the Bee dance, Joe was howling and Dave and Shawn, aka: Ace and Gary, were patting each other on the ass just as the Beezers delivery dude showed up. Awkward. Yet really amusing. We all kind of mumbled sorry and took our food and shut the door. Oh yeah and speaking of Bee Dancing, Michael had said that if he couldn't find a costume he was just going to come has Dave... with a bee dangling in front of his face and a nail taped to his forehead. And that is funny... After we finished eating, Shawn was going to make some Ecto Cooler, which is some ridiculous vodka/kool-aid mixture. Well, there was no sugar in the apartment, which meant Ace and Gary had their first mission of the evening: find sugar! The two left the apartment with a measuring cup and were dertermined to only return once the cup was full. Keep in mind they were fully dressed (like this) when searching for the sugar. Well, the got it, along with some really strange looks from passers-by they said. Ha. So, we drank a lot. Shawn and Michael finished off the Ecto Cooler pitcher that had a whole bottle of vodka in it, mind you. I had Malibu with a splash of pineapple all night, and Dave and Joe drank the usual Evan and Coke. We were waste cases. Dave and Shawn had attempted to make orange and black jello shots. The black turned out to be a kind of shit brown color instead. Both tasted like children's medicine. Both got us drunk. Okay, so can I just tell you that I cannot even begin to count the number of sexual inuendos made between Dave and Shawn. Everytime I turned around they were patting each other on the ass, making suggestive comments or just being gay. It was really funny because they are both such not gay guys (unlike some of the guys I've like in the past...) Yay for Dave being not gay... so anyway, we got bored later in the night and I really don't even know whose idea it was, but someone suggested we play Spin the Bottle. WTF? So basically we reverted back to 7th grade and kissed everyone in the room - like stupid peck kisses too. Lame, yet really funny. We eventually all passed out. Dustin,Shawns 16 year old drunk brother, wins the award for weirdest night. He had fallen asleep on the futon in the sun room and at some point he got up and went into Robby's room. Robby is the roommate that no one really knows at all. Like the kid could die and I don't think Dave, Shawn or Joe would notice for weeks. So Dustin ends up in his bed and Robby has to kick him out when he eventually came home. Well, the next morning, Robby tells Joe and Michael, "Ummm, I think that kid pissed on my clothes." Michael asked him why he thought that. Robby was like, "Well, they are damp and they smell like pee..." Michael and Joe cracked up. They said Robby took it really well though. Poor guy. It was a really fun night. We didn't do anything really crazy, but it was cool just to sit around and get ridiculous. Yay for Halloween.

Ready. Set. Camp!

This past weekend was Fall Break. [Insert joyous music here.] The maniac group of people that I associate with decided it was absolutely necessary to go play in the woods for this occasion. We actually decided like 2 months ago that we wanted to go camping, but it took that long to get a damn weekend that we all could. So we did. And I even made a soundtrack, featuring songs such as Black Betty, Free Bird, Take Me Home Tonight, King Of Wishful Thinking, Badd, and Yeah Toast! Just to name a few. (Yes, Yeah Toast is a song. You should download it. It's by Bob and Thom and it is the funniest shit you will ever hear. The End.)
So we ventured to the woods (i.e. Devil's Fork, with full bath facilites and concrete.) Whatever. We brought with us $84 worth of liquor, 6 cases of beer, a handle of moonshine and a cauldron full of sugary treats.
Keep in mind that the Camping Crew consisted of: Joe Long (the president of the drinkers), Nicole Cononie, Michael Cononie, David Kuhlman, Candle Fogle, Opie Gilbert, Erin Daniel and Corey Gibson. Aka: Raging Alcoholics. We only came back with 2 cases, a little bit of Evan Williams and some of the shine. Our activities consisted of drinking, eating, sleeping, wrestling, and falling out of chairs.
In that order.
We got there Friday night and before we even set up the tent, each of us had a drink in our hands in one of our very own
personalized alcohol cups that came out of our specialized camping cooler all decorated by me. Yay. We brought like 50 hot dogs and tore into them the instant we even felt a slight buzz. Two at a time was the way to do it. So, we're all just chillin, listening to the Ready Set Camp Tunes, when we hear some rustling. It was Nibbles. Nibbles the Squirrel. Somehow, Nibbles became a recurring theme throughout the camping weekend. Anytime something happened, it was Nibbles' fault. Damnit Nibbles, you ate all the laffy taffy. Damnit, Nibbles, where'd you put moonshine. Quit dropping acorns and other forest debris onto our heads, Nibbles. And the such. You get it. We enjoy overdoing it, can't you tell? So basically our first night consisted of us sitting around a wimpy fire, cracking up and getting wasted.
Okay, so when Erin's gets tipsy, she also gets insanely amusing. The night before we left to go camping, her, Corey and myself went to Walmart to buy all the supplies. Apparently,
giant balls are a staple within the camping world. Well, at least under our terms. Erin decided to do a dance with the giant ball. Our other ball was blue. We had one giant blue ball. Corey wouldn't let us get two blue balls. Ha. Yeah, so we sometimes revert to the perverted humor had by 14 year olds. Deal with it.
Drunkeness continued to rise, and things started to get funnier. You know the drill. Well, a bee decided to start harassing Dave. He is "highly allergic," as he so informed us. Instead of getting out of his chair or perhaps swatting at the insect, Dave chose to force his back as far back into the chair as possible, throw his arms into the air with his elbows back and his hands in fists close to his face and rock from side to side while grunting. The Bee Dance was born. Michael found this particularly funny and would do the Bee Dance whenever the mood struck him for the rest of the trip.
We all started eating boiled peanuts and I made some comment about how the peanuts tasted like the ocean. I was attempting to make the correlation that peanuts were indeed salty just as the ocean is. Michael found this a prime opportunity to make absolute fun of me. He was lile, "oooh it takes like the ocean; I wonder if I hold it to my ear I could hear the ocean too?!" And he put the peanut to his ear and cheered like he was a little 5 year old girl. Ass. It was funny though.
The next funny thing that happened, I am not quite certain as to the reasoning behind it, but suddenly Michael completely
fell out of his chair. No one asked him to move. He just fell over. Must have been Nibbles. Well because I made so much fun of him and even required a picture to be taken, I too fell out of my chair the following night. I didn't land gracefully whatsoever, but I'll be damned if I didn't save my whole drink. That bitch was full and just one splash got away. That's alcoholism for you: when you will sacrifice your assbone to save your precious Evan and Coke. Mmmm.
We all drank ourselves retarded, probably from doing things like
The Cononie Shake around the camp fire, gorging on marshmellows, making Joe faces, and harassing each other, and eventually packed into the tent. As you might recall, the same 8-person (*World's Largest Dutch Over, as we called it) tent. Luckily Opie and Candle brought an extra tent. We would have killed each other had all 8 of us slept in that thing. So okay, we're sleeping, and I woke up because Dave had completely taken over my pillow and was shaking. I looked at him, only to find him curled in a teeny ball with his knees tucked under his stomach, completely perpendicular to me, and completely on top of his sleepingbag. Dumbass. I was like, Dave! Get in your bag and move over! Jesus. It took me like 10 minutes to move his shivering ass around and get him into his designated sleeping sack. You're lucky you're so cute. Then, in a fit of rage while nightmaring, Corey does this strange snort, gasp, grunt noise followed by what would have been a long strand of obscenities had he anunciated in the least. I laughed. Erin had to pin him down and tell him to wake up. I laughed again. Just when we thought all was quiet in the tent, Michael starts... snoring. And I mean snoring. The boy is ungodly. So between Dave's weird positions, Corey's outbursts and Michael's unnecessary breathing, it's safe to say no one had a good night's sleep. Except for maybe Candle and Opie.
The next day, Dave was still shaking. You can bet he slept correctly that night. So, Corey and Opie decided to go on some exploration adventure. The rest of us stayed behind to sit around the fire pit and watch for Nibbles. Dave couldn't have gone anyway since he and Joe decided to tackle each other onto some rocks last night. Oh, the things alcohol makes you do. Well, another fine purchase from Walmart was
wax lips. I dunno. Something just came over us and told us we needed waxy objects to bite on. Whatever. They were funny as hell. It also takes little to amuse us, however.
I decided that I was pretty gross and wanted to go take a shower. Well, when I got to the shower, I debated on the possibilty that I might actually feel grosser when I came out. So I at least tried. Well, behind curtain number one, I turned the shower on and tried to adjust the head... well, in that process, the whole thing came off the wall, flew into the other wall, leaving only a vicious stream of water spatting from where the shower head should have been. Oops. So I tried curtain number two. It was two for a reason -- there were two humongous daddy long legs looking at me from the wall; like face level. Ewwwww. I actually did ewwww at the spiders. And then I quickly left the foul shower facilities. I chose dirtiness over grossness.
Then I passed out for 4 hours. Others joined me -- Erin for an hour, Dave for 2, but I accidentally slept for the whole afternoon. Which meant all I had to do was wake up and drink. Yessss. I don't even mean to be smart - it just happens. Ha. In the process of my afternoon sleep (not nap) Erin, Joe and Michael went fishing. They didn't come back with any fish, but Candle did come back with a heap of walking, poking, and killing sticks. The size determined the intensity of the stick, mind you. Thanks for the weapons, Candle.
A game of Circle of Death was necessary around the camp fire that night. However, being the lazyasses we are, we chose to sit in a semi-circle of death and just pass the cards to each other and take the top card off. Lazy, but fun none the less. While playing the game of doom, I looked at Candle in all seriousness, gave her a concerned look, then proceeded to ask, "Candle, can you close your eyes?!" She looked at me puzzled. "Because I caaaaan't!" Momentarily, Candle thought there could actually be something wrong with me, then it occurred to her that I was simply drunk and couldn't close my eyes because it caused me to spin uncontrollably. I made Dave stay up with me until eye closing was possible.
We got up the next morning and drove home as fast as possible and ran to the nearest shower. I took 3 showers in one. Eww, camping. So I'd have to say the camping excursion was a success. Minor injuries were had, many drinks were consumed, and we even came up with a new dance move. Yay, camping.

Too Many G's!

So I just got back from Six Flags, and holy crap was that fun! Candle, Opie, Dave and I all decided to haul ass down to Georgia today to go see just how many rollercoasters we could attempt without puking or dying. I'd say we did a damn good job. The second we got there, we got on the Georgia Scorcher -- the stand up rollercoaster. Ahhh! Way fun. Like so fun, I couldn't yell or open my eyes on the first hill because of TOO MANY G'S!!
Okay, let me enlighten you -- our on-going joke of the day was "too many g's." See, we went to ride the Mind Bender and then Batman after our Scorcher experience. Well, Batman sucks your happy ass seriously to your seat. In the midst of some ridiculous corkscrew flippy loop stuff, I hear Candle screaming "too many ggggg's!" I cracked up. Like could-not-contain-myself cracked up.
So after those rollercoasters, we hiked our asses over to Acrophobia, you know, the 200 ft. plumet of death? Right. That one. Well, I wimped out and said I couldn't do it right then, and we'd have to come back when the color in my face decided to come back.
We went to ride the Goldrush rollercoaster, which basically just jolted and jiggled us around a little. Sloshed around my brain blood. But for real, I had a headache that I swear was directly from Satan himself. Then our dumbasses got on the worst mistake ever -- the Georgia Cyclone. It's the big nasty wooden diaster than beat the living shit out of me. After we went down the first hill and my head was slammed 6 times into the "headrest" I knew I had made quite the mistake. My hips were bruised from the lap bar and I was trying to simply stablize my vital organs for the remainder of this disaster. Jesus Christ, someone needs to burn that machine.
We had to have intermission at this point where food became a necessity. Hamburgers sounded like a good idea. Until it cost us $40 for 4 of them. I mean, really. Who does that? Who charges that kind of money for a frickin burger? Buttheads. Eh, at least I was alive to enjoy my $10 slab o' meat... stupid Cyclone. I hate you.
And theeeen, we opted for the Superman rollercoaster. Way fun! Minus the incredibly foul smelling harnesses we were forced to be strapped to. Gross. But that ride is definitely the bomb. All 4 of us kept our hands stretched out like we were super heroes... and 8 years old. And of couse, Candle made references to the ungodly G-force that accompanied this Superman business. Whatever. You'd do it too. And see, I would have loved to have talked during these maniac excursions, but really, it's awesome if I can even laugh or scream in the process. Talking is simply out of the question.
We rode the Ninja next. Stupid Ninja. Got the crap beat out of me again. I think it was because there was no line at all, so we got right on - and my body was still processing Superman G's and was not fully prepared to experience Ninja G's and therefore I encountered internal G turmoil... right. That.
We then wanted Dippin' Dots, that cost $8 for 2 smalls. Bitches. We were going to enjoy our Dippin' Dots while waiting to board the Monster Plantation ride. It's a little boat ride through a "haunted" mansion that consisted of overstuffed silly creatures singing Halloweeny songs. As we were walking to go stand in line with 900 4 years and under children, somehow Candle managed to throw her Dippin' Dots all over the ground, as well as herself. Nothing was in her way. She really just threw them into the air. Oh, Candle. Tragic. So we stood in line with the little shits -- there's a form of birth control, if I ever saw one. Candle thought some of the kids were so adorable... it was all Dave and I could do to keep from snarling every time one of them glanced our way. Ewww, kids. So we rode our little boat through the creepy creature house and then it was time. Time to experience the 200 ft Death Drop. Acrophobia.
So we walk over, well, they kinda had to drag me... and I requested that we watch just how horrid this experience was going to be. I shuddered everytime the thing got to the top and just held those poor people up there for countless seconds torturing them with the inability of knowing just when they will be dropped back down to Earth. Blah. And then we got in the line of doom. Dave hugged me because he could tell I was basically having a complete shit fit. And he could actually feel my heart pounding. Ahhh. So we got on. Sat down, strapped in, and entered panic mode. I really didn't know if I could do it. Dave held my hand while we were waiting for take off. We were waiting for way too long and I began to get really flustered. All of a sudden, Candle blurts out, "Yeah Toast!" followed by Opie screaming, "French Toast!" (inside joke, people). And I cracked up. Thank goodness for Candle the tension reliever. And then we were shot straight up into the sky at an absolutely sinful height. They spun us around on the way up, let us hang out and look at the entire park, and then let us dangle there. Jesus.Christ. Dave had attempted to hold my hand the entire way up, I however, decided that it was vital for me to instead clutch my harness for dear sweet life. Once at the top, Candle started freaking out saying "let me down, I don't want to do this anymore, holy shit, this is not fun, way too high, let me down." I, on the other hand, tried to block her out and just stared out as far as I could see -- which was approximately to Columbia or so, and I just held on as tight as I could. And then we plummeted at 9 million miles per hour. I squealed at first, but then the breath was taken from me so I was silent until we stopped moving. Then I screamed "OHMYGAAAAAAD!!" at the top of my lungs. Damn you Acrophobia and your 9 million mile an hour plummet of death.
Well then we all suddenly became fearless and decided to go tackle the Mind Bender and Batman again. On the way over, a crazy acorn fell out of a tree and smacked Dave. He was like, " Damnit, I just got nutted on," in this calm voice. Well I laughed my ass off all the way until we got to the next ride. That was damn funny. So yeah this Mind Bender ride doesn't have any shoulder harnesses; only a lap belt -- and you flip upside down. So you are not restrained at all, which allows for maximum arms-in-air movement. Yesss. Well, the first time we rode it, I sat on the outside... this time Dave did. And apparently there is some lunatic jerky turn twist thing that caused Dave to completely lose all control over himself, which in turn, sent him plowing into me, causing me to bend at an unnatural angle and flail about the cart. His arms forced my arms down and also his body forced my body half way over the edge. So then we both burst into laughter and couldn't sit up straight, so for a good 14 seconds I was in a near death position. You're lucky you're so cute...
Then we rode the Batman with too many G's again. Candle almost puked. I was still in stun-mode from Acrophobia, so I was unable to decide if I was puke-ish feeling at the time, too. We rode one more ride each -- Dave and I chose the Scorcher again; Opie and Candle rode the log flume and then we chose to quit with the maniac rollercoasters because it was a serious concern that we might in fact die if we went upside down one more time in one day.
We came back to Clemson but made a necesary stop at Denny's in Anderson, whereupon we consumed ridiculously large quantities of breakfast food. Ohmygah, apple pancakes have never tasted so good in my life. And they didn't cost $40 either... so that makes them even better. We had Lisa, the white trash mother of 7 who was angry at the world, as our waitress. She was amusing to say the least. And then we all came home, dilerious and happy from our wild day. And then we passed the fuck out. The End.
So thank you Dave, Candle and Opie for all the fun and all the G's. Yay for Six Flags. Love you people.

Little Additions

Yesterday began as a normal day at the Esso. We were kinda slow because of the nasty weather, so Candice, our manager decided to go clean up the office. She was in there and kept hearing these squealing sounds so she got one of the kitchen boys, Trey, to come see if he could hear it too. They decided the noise was coming from the attic, so Candice nominated Trey to go play detective. Guess what he found? Three teeny baby kittens! Of course I don't know how to say no when it comes to teeny baby kittens, so I volunteered to help take care of them. Angie and I decided we would take turns babysitting them and also try to find good homes for the babies. It's near impossible for me to not take one or both, but I know I do not need another addition to my cat collection. Tucker and Twister and enough as it is. Angie took them to the vet where she got formula and little bitty bottles for them. Ohmygah it is the most precious thing to hold one of them in my hand and feed her with a bottle! It is also a good form of birth control because I barely can handle taking care of an animal, lord knows how much I'd fail with an actual human. Eeek. Sad news though, the little gray one in the middle didn't make it. He was the runt and we were having a hard time with him. Sad. But the other two are doing really well. And now I must go play mom and feed the little cuties. Yay for Esso kitties!

You Thought Wrong

Given the circumstances of the bullshit that has surrounded the previous 24 hours, I felt compelled to share the lyrics of a song that could not put the situation into any better perspective. Wait did I say 24 hours? I meant year...it all just came to a nice ugly ass head in the past day. The song is called You Thought Wrong by Kelly Clarkson and Tamyra Gray, and it's about this jackass who attempted to play both girls. Luckily for the girls however, they were smarter than the boy and exposed him for the lying, manipulative son of a bitch he is. Enjoy.

I see how you're tryin to
Weasel your way in boy
Know how you maneuver
With all your confusion

You tell me that I'm your only,
And how bad that you want me
Then why are you so shady,
If I'm supposed to be your lady?

Why should I believe
Anything you say?
And how could you shame me that way?

Tell me where,
Where'd you get the nerve
To even think that you,
You could play me boy?

You thought that we didn't know
You thought we were in the dark
But boy you've done us wrong
Cuz we both know now
You thought you had us both
At your beck 'n call
But now who's the joke?
And look who's laughin' now

Now you're tryin to use us,

Against one another but it won't work

I see right through your game boy

And I know exactly what I'm in for

You, you try to deny all your actions

For once in your life be a real man

At least give me the proper respect of

The truth

When I already know you did it

Why should I believe
Anything you say?
And how could you shame me that way?

Tell me where
Where'd you get the nerve
To even think that you
You could play me boy

You thought we didn't know
You thought we were in the dark
But boy your cover's blown
Cuz we both know now
You that you had us both
At you beck 'n call
But now who's the joke?
And look who's laughin' now
I see what you do baby
Tryin' to tell me you want me
Can't you just get it through your,
Get it through your thick head?
Cuz I've seen this game before
And I'm showin' you the door so
Shut your mouth
I'm not tryin to hear your lies
No not again

no, no not again...

Sorry you couldn't be a better man
No no no

No, no, no, no, NO
You thought we didn't know
You thought we were in the dark
But boy you've done us wrong
Cuz we both know now
You thought you had us both
At your beck 'n call
But now who's the joke?
And look who's laughin' now

Guess you thought wrong

Look who's laughin' now

Since You've Been Gone

So exactly how is it my fault if my ex boyfriend still calls me, texts me, looks at my pictures and reads my blog? really. I'd like to know how I control any of this. See, funny thing is, I'm the bad guy in the situation because he still talks to me. Sorry if I remain friends with someone after we had a relationship. And sorry if your ass can't deal with it. I'm not the one lying to you or hiding things from you, missy, so get your facts straight before you threaten to "post my blog" on your little webpage. Which actually, would be fine with me if you did, because I don't really know how that makes me look bad, you know? If you really have that much of a problem with me, then why don't you just talk to me? I'm actually not that scary. And the truth is, your "boyfriend" has been claiming to be single for a good many months now. So I'm sorry that you are being lied to. He did the same shit to me and Catherine. And amazingly, neither of us are actually psycho. Don't worry, he'll tell the next girl you are just as insane... so you might want to reconsider just who it is you are so angry with.

And please don't worry - I would never go back to him. And I have never intentionally tried to fuck you over -- I actually didn't know you were even still seeing him, based on what he'd told me. And I also can't control the fact that he is the one calling me 3 times a day instead of spending time with you. I mean, he's a cool guy and we had fun, but I've moved on and I have an amazing man in my life, now. So good luck. And really, if you need to talk to me, just talk.

A Famous Phone Call

Okay, so my phone rang today around 1:00, and it was Adam. He was like, "so can I ask you something?" Of course I said yes and he responded with, "well I was wondering if you would want an autographed CD from Ryan Cabrera." YES! Ohmygah, see, I love Ryan Cabrera. He is quite possibly my favorite artist. And I would marry him pretty much. Now I am sure you are wondering how Adam was planning on going about getting this CD for me -- he works for the biggest radio station in Columbia, 104.7 WNOK, and they sent him to pick up Ryan from the airport so he could do a private show later tonight. I was completely bouncing off the walls. Way exciting. Stuff like this doesn't happen. So then around 4:00, Adam called again and I got to hear Ryan singing in the background, which again was completely awesome. And then around 6:00 Adam called again. So I answered the phone by just saying, "heeey," and the voice on the other end said, "Hey Nicole." I was like "This isn't Adam..." The voice was like, "yeah it is.... nah, this is Ryan." This was the part where I secretly screamed on the inside and pretended to be cool on the outside. I was like, "Wow, hey Ryan, what's up?!" He told me that they were hanging out having a good time and then he was like, "well where are you?" I was like, "Well, I'm in Clemson." He was like, "Man, too bad you can't come hang with us." I am actually still considering getting in the car... I told him that Adam definitely knows how to have a good time, so he is in good hands. And he was like, "awesome, it was cool to talk to you, Nicole." So I hung up the phone and screamed. Holy crap!! RYAN CABRERA called me!! Yaaaaaay!! And major props to Adam for thinking of me and getting Ryan to call! Wow. Way wow.

Hey Noodles

I was at Walmart the other day
and I bought a fish.
His name is Noodles.
The End.

19 Hours and a Bee Sting Later

Saturday was the first game of the season for us crazy Tigers and maaaan was it nuts at the Esso. The entire staff had to be there at 7:00 am. For those of you that don't know, it is still dark outside then. Gross. So Lindsey picked up me, Candle, Jenny and Kate at like 6 motherfreakin 30. We were all delirious and in serious need of food. So we were all screaming for Hardee's and Lindsey had no choice but to take our asses there. We ordered food by the masses along with "two strong coffees." Kate was in the back seat exaggerating the strongness that was needed in these strong coffees in order for her to actually live through the day. We ate so furiously that there were biscuit remnants strewn about the car -- that I am certain Lindsey will continue to find for a good 3 weeks. We happened to be sitting at a redlight when this crazy car pulls up beside us and starts blowing the horn like a maniac and making a scene. We all turned to look, and it is Candice, our manager, flipping us two birds while sticking her tongue out, shaking her head and screaming. There's one way to go about waking up.
So we are there at 7:00 am. Uuuggghh. It physically hurt to be awake. I chose to pop caffeine pills, eat a donut and drink Mr. Pibb all while doing my dork dance. You know, the one where I kinda crouch down, make fists, and then swivel my hips in a clockwise manner. Yeah, that one. This black dude was watching me and he was like, "Something's missing. You need some twirk." I was like, "Oh don't worry honey, I got twirk." and I walked away. When I came back, he was like, "Damn right you got twirk." Apparently my homemade Walmart cutoff khakis did the trick. Yes, you read that correctly. I owned no real shorts to my name Friday night, so spur of the moment and a lack of options drove me to go to Walmart and find some pants and act like I was in the 90s and create my own shorts. Hey, whatever, they qualified me for twirkness, so that's fine by me.
I went outside to help set up tables when I was unfortunately greeted by a nasty bee. And the asshole stung me! Bastard. And on top of that, he stung me in my armpit! How do you even do that? I screamed and ran inside. Candice was like, damnit, if you can't breathe, you find me! Luckily I had no breathing problems... well at least they weren't caused by the bee - drunk men were a different story.
We had this temporary tattoo tent set up in the parking lot and the dude told us that he would give all the Esso Girls one for free if we put it somewhere visible on ourselves. Most of the girls got tiger paws or cute things... I opted for a different route. You know how big 18 wheelers have those mud flaps on the tires? And they usually have that girl on them? Well yeah, I got the mud flap girl branded on to my left shoulder blade in an obnoxious blue color. Can we say tacky? That thing sure did get me some attention throughout the day. Here are a few comments received from various drunk men in regards to the mud flap girl:
1. Damnit! I knew I should have put that ring in my pocket when I left my house today because I would ask you to marry me right now.
2. Ohmygod, I wish my wife would do that.
3. I love you.
The list went on, but I chose to stop listening to the drunken fools. Little miss mud flap helped me rack up some good tips though, so I can't really complain.

Early afternoon sometime I ended with a table of 6 or 7 Texas guys who were really cool. And they thought it was exceptionally cool that I was from Texas, so we bonded. Well, the boys ran up a $200 tab and then decided that they also wanted to get a gigantic order of mini bottles -- $280 worth, to be exact. 36 bottles of Absolute and 20 bottles of Jim Beam. I had to carry it in a grocery bag and guard it with my life as I pushed my way through the drunken masses of tailgaters. The bar eventually got so crowded that I couldn't physically force myself through the clusters of people inside. I actually had to go outside and weave through people out there and come in the other door to make it to my tables in the back. Madness. I did get really good at yelling "'scuse me!" and you better believe that people get out of your way when you have 3 drinks in your hands, 2 beers in your pockets and an Esso tank top on. I felt kinda powerful. And of couse the drunk guys would be like, "of course we'll move babydoll, anything for you darlin." Hey whatever, at least they weren't cussing me out. Though I did have to argue with two dicks that day. But two in 19 hours isn't too terrible. One guy was like "I need two gin and cokes." I repeated it back to him to make sure I heard him correctly (because keep in mind you shouldn't mix those two together) and when I came back he was like "what the fuck is this? I ordered gin and juice" I was like, "nope, I repeated it back to you that you said gin and coke so that is what you got. You can order another one if you want." He did. Moron. Then this other doof was like "l told one of the girls to get me a bucket and she didn't" so I told him I would but he had to give me a few minutes because I had other orders. Well, he ends up stopping me and yelling at me that he could have gone to the bar already and gotten his bucket. I was like, "well then go to the bar! Otherwise give me about 10 minutes because we are really really busy..." he shut up and I got his stupid bucket of beer to him and then he gave me nice tips after giving me hell.
We had a 20 foot screen in our parking lot with the game on -- I managed to not see a single play of the entire thing, but damn, I knew when something good or bad was happening because the Esso went absolutely insane. And holy crap, when that interruption happened with 3 minutes left in the game, I was afraid a riot was going to break out. I have never heard strands of cuss words that long or that vulgar in my life. And I thought I had a foul mouth... Goood gah, don't mess with those football fans. They'll kill someone. Speaking of that, Candle about knocked out this one moron. He called her a stupid bitch for not being fast enough waiting on him and she flipped out. Like, pounded her fist on the bar, about flew over the bar, and was like "can you not see that there are 500 other motherfuckers trying to do the same thing you are?! Don't be an asshole!" Ha! And for those of you who know Candle, know that the girl can make you laugh so hard you can't breathe, which was a very nice relief after such a ridiculous day.
We got to leave around 2:00 am, and can I just tell you that I looked like a lunatic just attempting to walk normally. I managed to fuck up my neck, hurt my back and get a massive blister on one of my toes, and my feet hurt so bad that I actually had random convulsions. So basically, if you can imagine this, I was limping, holding my arms bent in front of me with my head cocked to the side, hair all frazzled, mascara to my ears and bar smeared all over my body. I kinda looked like a deranged Quazzi Motto. You know, the hunchback guy? Gah. I was a sight. It was worth it -- her is where I brag a little -- all of the other girls on the floor made about $900 in sales. I made $1715 in sales! And I am the new girl! Go me :) I was proud. Which means, I got the best tips out of the girls on the floor too. Yaaay.
So I managed to successfully live though the first game. And we won! So yay for me for living, yay for Esso for kicking ass and yay for the Tigers for winning their first game!

what the fuck is a grandpuppy?

okay so tonight was human growth and development with dr. babble ass. i will leave her anonymous for now, so as not to destroy my grade if she were to ever get ahold of this particular entry. holy freaking god. save me. please. or shoot me. okay first, being that we are in the counseling field, we should be people that others would see as someone they would want to seek help from, right? well, dr. human damn development does not fall into the someone i want to seek counseling from category. see, dr. growth, is well, just that... growthy. not a small woman, to put it nicely. frumpy, big scraggly hair, crooked yellowy teeth, some dandruff, some splotchiness, and some just not goodness exuding from her. grooooss. i mean, nice, i guess, just not easy on the eyes. which again goes along with the idea of her not being someone i want to seek help from.
so she bumbles about for 3 hours, discussing the syllabus in too much detail, her family and how they lived without indoor plumbing back in the 1700s, her opinion on school programs which according to her do not reflect the opinions of clemson as a whole.... and she also forced us to play the "lets get to know each other game" -- you know, the one where you introduce your new friend and tell interesting facts about them the way we did when we were in the second fucking grade? yeah, big yay for the get to know me game. she got a little twitterpated when i was like "yeah i have my tragus pierced." ha. she thought i was being foul. that was funny. oh yeah, and we were so lucky as to learn about her extended family as well -- she decided to share with us about her grandpuppy. Really, what the fuck is a grandpuppy?! She's all like "OMG, I could talk about my grandpuppy for hours, so if you want to know anything about my grandpuppy, you just ask me and we can talk about grandpuppies." this is the part where i screamed on the inside and tried to smile on the outside. difficult task. and like, of all things to elaborate on, who picks grandpuppies? come to find out, i thought that a grandpuppy might be a puppy from other puppies, you know, like a whole generation of puppies. no. wrong thought process. apparently a grandpuppy is the pseudo child of your own child. who knew?
whatever. so we get through class. which mind you, was no easy situation. ugh. she is all disorganized, scatterbrained, and frumpy. and frumpy is not okay in my book. makes my learning abilities plummit when you are frumpy. gah. so she babbles on about these crazy papers we have to write and like, as a class, we were discussing shit since she did in fact put us into shit-discussing groups... and then, without warning, proceeds to say, "raise your right hand if you can hear me." people in the class actually gasped "whhaaat?" and nicely refrained from adding "the fuck" to the end of their flabbergastedness. like, its one of those moments when your jaw lowers slightly, your eyelids get heavy, you shove your chin into your chest and only moderately raise your eyebrows and think to yourself, "did i really just witness this?" lord help us. and especially help erin, who has the misfortune of having to experience the frumpy growthy beast for now a second time. poor child. she will need help after this. but not from her of course. as we've learned, dr. human growth ass is not the one we seek out when our lives are a spiraling death whirlwind of disaster.

Then What is Forever For...

As I've mentioned, I started graduate school this semester. Yesterday I had a class with Dr. Neil, and he shared a little background about his family. He told us how his parents divorced when he was 6 years old, and how he didn't understand divorce because he thought marriage was forever. He used this quote:
"If something isn't forever, then what is forever for?"
Doesn't that make you think? And doesn't it make you sad?
Once upon a time, I thought I was going to have a forever. I had the ring that was going to prove it. It may not have been an engagement ring, but it was a beautiful diamond, and it was from the only person I have ever been in love with. I don't mean for this to sound like a sob story, because it actually isn't. I've learned so much from that relationship and I am so thankful that I had him in my life. The relationship I had with Blair is actually a good portion of the reasoning behind my desires to become a counselor.
For years, I have said that I am terrible at my own relationships; that I am bad at being in them, but really good at giving advice to others about their relationships. I had convinced myself that I was infact doomed to a lifetime of crappy, ailing relationships because I was incapable of handling myself within them. At the risk of sounding completely poetic and ridiculous -- I left yesterday's class feeling that I had encountered some small form of an epiphany. Dr. Neil said that we "wouldn't be going into the counseling field, if we weren't good at it ourselves." And obviously, I wouldn't want to go into marriage counseling if I wasn't good at relationships. Before I had a full-fledged panic attack, I realized that maybe, just maybe, I am actually good at all this boyfriend/girlfriend stuff after all. Just because these relationships have not lasted, does not mean that I did not put my heart into them. Just because Blair and I broke up, does not mean I suck at relationships. We were both actually amazing for each other. Shit happens though. And sometimes shit shouldn't happen as much as it did for he and I. But we tried. And we loved each other. And I offered everything I could. I tried so hard to make things work and to compromise. And I know he did too. And we both learned from what we had, which is the most important part of a relationship or breakup. If you can come out of something so serious and feel that you know yourself better, then a breakup is not necessarily a failure. And I thank God that I realize that now.
I am so excited about grad school. I feel like I am really doing the right thing by advancing within the field of counseling. My life wouldn't make sense if I wasn't supposed to help other people solve their problems and at the same time help myself continue learning. I am looking forward to the madness and wonderfulness that is grad school.

writing funk. boo.

so, i suck. i know. i haven't written a damned entry in like 20 days. terrible. well, not a lot of insanely fun things have happened... due to this lack of unfunness, i have not had the urge to share my life with you people.

in regular news though, i start my first day as a graduate student tonight at 6:15. kinda crazy. i'm excited about it though. kinda. actually, i'd really rather go get waaasted.

random: i bought one of those things that is fabric-like that you color and hang on the wall. it features patrick, from spongebob, and he is riding some ridiculous bike down a big underwater bike ramp and it says "make it stop." i purchased the fabric fun for my favorite half, joe. yes, joe appreciates these things. as do i. so it works. don't judge.

and really that is about the most exciting thing that has happened lately. i'm in a writing funk. sorry guys. i'll work on it...

Jobs, Balls and Strippers

So, I am officially the new girl at Esso. Wooo Hooo! I am way excited about this job. Candle actually had been hounding my ass about applying for a good month or so and I finally gave in and tried it out. My first day was Monday. It went really well. Minus the smart ass kitchen guys who refuse to call me Nicole and refer to me only as Damn New Girl. But I give them hell back, so they like me. They actually have said they think I am quiet. Ha! I told them to give me a week. They'll see. So today I actually ran around on the floor all by myself. Yay. I have a job. And I managed to get through my first real day with only one screw up. So thank you, Candle, for making me get a job. Heart you.

In other drunk news: last night was karaoke with Ed Miller. Duh. Joe and I drank Christmas (beam and coke, for those of you who have not been keeping up with the blogs). So Candle was all hellbent on singing. I really didnt want to, but she was like "get fucked up and then you will!" so I did. and we did. "Nic and Company" (me, Candle, Joe and Jayson) sang Shot Through the Heart. I was waaaasted. And I sorta took over the performance. Imagine that. I was rockin' my tacky shades and using the mic
cord as a dance prop. I also incorporated a few well-placed CHAs into the song. For my fantastic efforts with the cha, Ed Miller rewarded me with free shit. I got to pick from a pile of junk, and of course I went for the biggest, gawdiest, most ridiculous thing I could find: a big ass golf ball with the Miller High Life Light logo plastered across it. Cuuuute. Tacky as shit. Love it. I'm going to display it in the apartment, along with the road sign that I stole this weekend in Charleston that reads Speed Hump. Yesss. Cha! (I will get to the Charleston story momentarily) So, yeah here is a lovely picture of us posing with our ball. Ha. Everyone wanted to touch my ball. I was like no, bitches, it's my ball... so I was drunk. And then I got to take it to Beezer's. Which was amusing. Yay for balls. Ha.

So okay, also in drunker news: I drove to Charleston Saturday to get waaaasted with Megan and Emily. We went to City Bar and did the normal round of 8000 shots and then grinded with the pole. I pretended to dance on it... in all actuality, the pole was the only thing keeping me standing. We left City Bar and ran over to 213. Lucky for us, I had aquired a VIP pass which allowed all of us to weissel in without paying or waiting. Sweet. However, it was way packed out, so we left and went to Wild Wings. Took even more shots. And eventually got kicked out at closing time. Fuuuun. We ate the hell out of the hot dogs that we bought at 2:00 and then we took Emily back so she could pass out and avoid the madness that was to come. The madness came in the form of Thee Southern Belle; the fully nude, trashy ass titty bar in Charleston. They actually have redecorated and now have couches everywhere -- like it looks like theater seating in there. Ridiculous. Also ridiculous that I know they have redecorated. Me, Megan and Andrew sat there for like 4 hours in amazement of how well these girls could shimmy up and down a freakin stripper pole. Around 5:00 am, all the girls pranced out and we got to pick our favorite to go get a private dance from if we wanted to. Our girl Cookie was there! Yesss. (If you recall, over Spring Break, we liked the girl in the girlscout costume, and I appropriately named her Cookie and she had since become our favorite stripper.) So we go in the back room, whereupon she absolutely molested me and Megan. Like, Megan actually held my hand for a second because she was so freaked out. Really funny. Cookie was all swingin her hair on us, breathing in our ears, purring, smacking her ass, biting us, buzzing in our crotches... yes, buzzing. And it is really strange. And I'm not sure exactally how I feel about that still. The girl is nuts. After she was done with her little show, Megan said my name for some reason and Cookie was like, "Nicole?! That's my name, too!" I was like, "I knew I liked her for a reason." So yay, I have the same name as Cookie. Ha. There is an accompliment. What a night. We even got huge t-shirts out of it.. with half naked chicks on the back. Woot.

So today we have learned that it is good to say yay for new jobs, big balls, and stippers.

The End.

for joe

i realize that i am only writing this for joe, but i don't mind letting everyone know just how amazing i think he is. i'm gonna be a sappy ass and i'm going to alude to some inside jokes, so its possible that the only person that will actually enjoy this entry is joe. which is really all that matters anyway. so joe, this is for you...

j o e --
you are wonderful. and i love you.
i'll start with that.

following that, i figured that the least i could do for you is write an entry in honor of your wonderfulness. i'm not exactly sure how we fell into each other's lives to begin with, and then i'm really not sure how we became each other's better halves, but i thank god that we did. you are my best friend. you really are. with you, i can do anything. you allow me to show you the real nicole. the nicole that shakes when she's nervous, that can't hold eye contact as long as she wants, that gets all insecure about her new found crazy hair, that uses 'i don't know' as an answer for everything (especially important things), and that is basically one big walking disaster. you've let me into your life. you've allowed me to cross boundries that you didn't even know existed. and we got to cross them together. i'm actually getting all teary sitting here trying to find words to express just how incredibly much you mean to me... and holy hell, we have gone to hell and back, floated around in purgatory and then danced around the obscene more times than any two people ever should. especially so young. and not even technically dating or whatever. and you know what? i wouldn't change a thing. you have definitely given me the most fucking dramatic summer of my life, but also the best. nothing can ever take that from us either.
and good god, the fun we have had -- the nights we've gone out and sang toxic, the nights i've danced on the bar, the nights you've cooked dinner for me, the times we pounded bottle after bottle of wine on a wednesday night watching mafia movies, the times we just sat in silence together, the hugs, the tears, the laughter, the drunkenness, the soberness, the pool... can i continue? well, i mean, i'm going to anyway... let me go ahead and stick in a blurb of all the inside shit we've come up with this summer:

can i get a morphine drip? one, two ways? i have three bottles of wine and boonedock saints, let's go. we should ask jesus to come too. i need him. i also need jim the hippo sippy cup. he's green. and that's my favorite. what is this?! i need an adult. could you teach me to dance, hospital style? i mell moke. and i need you to check my downstairs. can i borrow your rackets? i need to do the dance. oh and can we please stay up and listen to techno and talk about headboards? or watch pimp my ride at 3:00 in the afternoon while it's raining and see what kind of ideas we get. and oh yeah, can you make a stripper pole? and feed me dollars when i dance on it? i beat mario. thanks for the support. i hate mario 2 though. thanks for the meat, and for plugging my hole. good pancakes. ronnie said that you're toxic. can i borrow your windshield? it makes me feel invisible. thanks for giving me a designated craft station in 102 f. sorry my room beeps too much. sorry you own taz shorts. for real. i promise to return all of your clothing evenutally. beer forts are cool. so are pool floats. and ninja parties at the pool. save an otter. wear a floaty. do i have boat eyes? lets go to the thrift store again. i'll be on lap duty any time you need me. will you wear the sailboat shirt or maybe even mathcounts? i dare you to take a shower and not have to take a break. are you drunk? get used to it! go eat a hotdog, gah. and get some cookie dough while you're at it. is this skirt socially unacceptable? did you say something about handcuffs? i swore i could have heard you say handcuffs? wanna make breakfast? thanks for being on nicole time. thanks for playing 90s music. yay for the deadbolt. yay for out of control hair. if i take a canoe to paris, will you push me? thanks for letting me use the tiki surfer guy. but i came in for tonsils! america, fuck yeah! blinky! run!

the list doesn't seem to end. i have so much fun with you.
i know you are in my life for a reason. i don't exactly know the reason yet, but i know its huge. i really don't ever want to know what life is like without joe. the times we've fought and i thought i might lose you were some of the worst feelings i've ever experienced. i am so blessed to have you and just hope that i get to continue to share so much with you. thank you for adding so much to my life, joe. i smile when i think about you. and yeah, sorry that everyone but me knows that we are apparently perfect for each other. hi, my name is idiot. but if you'll let me, i'll be your favorite tard for as long as i can. i'm lucky to have gotten to have so much of you. you are an amazing person. i hope you know that. you're the bomb diggity. yep.
thank you for making me face things about myself that i didn't think i could, thank you for teaching me how to calm down, thank you for letting me teach you that being unprepared is okay sometimes, thank you for opening up to me, thank you for letting me open up to you, thank you for letting me be your beautiful pain in the ass.

thank you for being you.
i need you. i love you.

always - nic

The Fantastic Four

As we all know, I am officially out of control. And this out of controllness seems to be fueled when I am in the presence of Joe, Candle and Jayson. I have taken it upon myself to deem us the Fantastic Four. Our sweet powers include, but are not limited to: hydraulics, massive consumption of alcoholic beverages, unlimited amounts of inside jokes referring to BAP, Ronnie, nachos and otters, performances at karaoke TDs resulting in free shit, and the ability to have endless meaningless conversations. Yessss.
Tuesday was a perfect example of all of these way envied abilities. The four of us sang Take Me Home Tonight (of course) and from there on out, it just got crazier every time one or all of us were on that stage. Candle and I ended up being backup dancers, or maybe we actually made the song worthwhile, with Vixxxen while J-Quest and Gabe sang Hey Ya. Lucky for me, I had just made a tacky trucker hat that I was able to use as a dance prop which induced even crazier dancing. The hat says "yes" in rhinestones and has pink ribbon around the edges. [Refer to pictures for full effect] So then, The Nic and Joe Show (yeah, you like that) sang Toxic. That is the best performance Joe and I have ever done. Really. I didn't wear the hat, but I was drunk enough to not care if I danced out to the max. So I did... I did the whole gyrate thing when the song kinda makes the gyrate sound, and really, I heard the bar get really loud. So I just danced more. And they got even louder. It was so freakin awesome to hear everyone screaming and cheering. Then Joe and I would get in the middle of the stage, sing to each other, grind on each other and then go to opposite sides and do our own thing. We didn't plan for it to work that way, it just did. And it was the freakin bomb. Because of my amazing ass-shaking abilities, Ed Miller rewarded me with this teeny little Malibu tanktop that actually barely covers my boobs. Yay for free worthless shit, though.
So basically, I have too much fun, I'm too out of control, I drink too much and I shake my ass too much and I love every freakin second of it. Yesss.

I Love My Friends to the Max

Nothing is more important to me than the relationships I have with my friends. Especially my best friends. They are my world, my support system, my most precious treasures. Anytime an arguement happens between us, I break down. I honestly do not know how to live when things are not okay with my friends. Last night, I thought I had lost my two best friends, for different reasons, and really, I couldn't physically stand up. I need you two so much. I don't just want you in my lives, I need you. Megan is my left support beam and Joe is my right. Without one of you, I am borderline hysterical, without both of you, my heart breaks. I know you both know how much I love you. Please know that love will never change. Thank you both for impacting my life in such wonderful ways. And damnit, don't leave me. Ever. I'll kick your asses. And sorry I'm an idiot sometimes. Honestly though, you two are amazing. I love you, Megan. I love you, Joe.

and just on a side note, thank you, Andrew. So much. I really do think you are wonderful.

and while I am at it, I love you Emily, Erin, Candle, Michael (both Cononie and Snider), Dave, and Jayson. All of you offer such a wonderful friendship to me. Thank you. I hope each of you know that I love you. I smile knowing how much fun I always have when any of you are around. You make my days happy. I love it that I can be Nicole, real Nicole, and all of you accept me for that. It's an incredible feeling as well as a blessing. Yay. I am so thankful to have you in my life. I'm lucky to be surrounded with such great people.

Can I Get a Morphine Drip? One, Two Ways?

I'm sure some of you have already heard pieces of the madness that occurred this past Saturday night concerning a trip made to the ER at 2:30 in the morning. Let me now fill you in on the insanity in it's entirity... it rivals for the title of funniest night of my life. Dave came to town, which called for dinner at Monterray's. Joe, Stephanie, Dan, Megan, Andrew, Dave and myself all went, whereupon the funniness began. We started telling stories of course, and I have not the slightest idea how this topic came about but it did: saving otters. Apparently Dave was out on a boat and saw this poor otter half drowning, so he scooped him up with his paddle and took him to shore. He gave the little guy some food and water and saved his life. Our motto, surprisingly enough, is now: Save An Otter. And that's funny. We're gonna make t-shirts.
Then I started talking about how much I hate flying and if I ever travelled I was going to just take a freakin boat. Or perhaps a canoe. With a single paddle. To Paris. "Hey Joe, will you give me a push? I gotta paddle to Paris and I can't get past the wake!"... I wind up 2 miles down the beach thinking I have sailed across the freakin sea. Yessss. And I think, "hmmm, Paris looks a lot like South Carolina."
Yeah, we're morons.
So then we go to Overtime. Stayed there all night. After like 8 shots and 2 pitchers, I got seriously out of control. I ended up wearing Joe's sunglasses, that actually resemble a windshield because they are so obnoxiously huge and tacky. I love them. So, when I have a prop, I tend to feel more invincible... I don't know. It's like the little kid on Big Daddy where if he puts on the sunglasses he feels like people can't see him. Yeah, hi, I do that too. Give me shades or a trucker hat and I'm good to go. So I wound up dancing on the bar, windshield on, thong hanging out, taking money out of people's teeth. Goodlord. Like, we caused a hell of a scene. Half the bar was watching us dance. Joe did the dollar-in-mouth-backbend-over-the-bar move, all the while I am bent down over him taking it from his teeth... did the same thing with Leah and Dave and a few more people that I can't really recall. People were screaming my name from across the bar (ahem Andrew) and it was a damn good time. I bruised my ass trying to get down. But I racked up like $15 from being up there for like 5 minutes. Hot. For a visual of how I looked on the bar, please refer to my newly updated facebook picture.
Closing time came. Whereupon it was decided we needed to go to the hospital. See, Dave had slammed his middle finger into his jeep door when he was pumping gas. It split it open on the underside, at the first bend in his finger (near the tip not the palm). He had wrapped it, but it just didn't seem like it was going to stop bleeding. He did this at like 6:00 that afternoon. So yeah, that'll be the only time we can say we made a pitstop at the bar before we went to the hospital. So we get there, Dave was on the phone getting yelled at by his dad because he didn't believe it wasn't an alcohol related injury and I was having a screaming fit in the bathroom because of all the shit that went down at Overtime after I left. Dave and I both got off the phone at about the same time and Joe said he could just feel the high tension. So Joe got on his hands and knees in the waiting room and literally drug himself across the floor using only his hands screaming "I need help! I need heeeeellllppp!" Holygod that was really the funniest act ever put on by Joe Long. Just thinking about him doing that makes me shake with laughter. So freakin funny. And he did it in the "Nic and Joe R-Tard Voice" which accounts for even more funniness. After that, it was nonstop laughing for 2 solid hours. I was still all pissed off and I was like "goddamnit, I am going to need some freakin morphine to calm down." I hadn't been that furious in a long time and I really couldn't compose myself. Like I was shaking I was so angry. (Still am, by the way... but that isn't relevant at this time) So Joe motions over the non-existant nurse and is like, "Excuse me, can I get a morphine drip over here? One, two ways, please?" Enter more hysterical laughter.
Joe and I got to be Dave's visitors, also known as the Worst Visitors Ever according to Dave, so we got to go wait with Dave back in our curtain-enclosed room. As soon as the nurse shut that curtain, Joe and I reverted back to being 6 years old and got into everything. First, Joe started playing with the huge overhead light -- trying to position it over Dave for maximum light usage. The nurse saw him. So Joe moped back to his seat where I was cracking up and kinda shoved him for being a tard. Yeah, shoved him right into the biohazardous waste recepticle. Joe was like "Nicole just gave me AIDS.... oh, maybe I shouldn't say that here." I laughed my ass off. All the while Joe was rubbing his arm mumbling "she gave me AIDS," and Dave was laying on the bed just shaking his head in silence at us. Joe got up to investigate (or snoop) some more. He opened one cabinet and was like "ooooooo I don't know what that is , but it looks fun!" Then he opens another cabinet and he was still cracking up from what was behind door #1, so his laugh turned into a cough. So he basically contaminated the entire steril ER. Way to go, Joe, gah. Way to give the sterilized equipment your newfound AIDS that I gave you, gah. He then was like "I neeed an adult." Again in the tard voice. Everything is funnier that way. So then anytime we started getting even more out of control, one of us would yell, I need an adult! It is also beneficial to use this phrase when being molested or harassed by any given person whose grimey mitts you do not want on your sacred, hot body.

Yeah yeah, we're going to hell. We already know...
Then Joe found the tongue holder-down things. Stole one. Found the surgi-lube which is really gross and I am content with never knowning what the hell surgi-lube is used for. Stole some of that. And then he found those sticky pads that you put on people's chest when you have to shock them. Yep, stole one of those too. You can search for this items on e-bay. Bidding starts at $7.48 for all items.
If you haven't gathered yet, we were in the room for quite some time, got a little stir-crazy, were still pretty waaaasted, and were in 6-years-old-mode. Then we found Baxter. The most expensive piece of machinery in the room. Joe picked it up, "Oooh it's heavy. Must be expensive." and proceded to push about 6 buttons at once. Baxter didn't move. He was just this little monitor thing, probably used to inspect people that have been contamenated with biohazards and they use surgilube with the chest pads and popsicle sticks to diagnose them. Or maybe it's just a heart monitor. Either way, we couldn't get the bitch to beep or turn on or anything. Gah, Baxter, way to be a tease. We continued to act like we were raised in a barn. Joe did the "tuck your arm in your sleeve so only your elbow sticks out of your shirt move," and said in the tard voice, "but I came in for tonsils!!" So in the process of writing this entry it has come to my attention that it was actually Joe that was being the child the entire time, I just didn't help the situation because I would provoke him to continue with his absurdity. All the more reason why I love you, Joe Long ;)
Finally at about 3:30am, Dr. Leap came to sew up Dave's damned finger. He's barely in the curtain and Joe is like, "Hey! Are you an author?!" I'm thinking WTF? Where the hell is this about to go? Dr. Leap is like "Why, yes I am." I laughed and did the "what is this" move. (For you Catholics who know the comedian Dane Cook, you know what I am talking about.) So Dr. Leap gave Dave these horrible shots in his finger that made it swell up like 5x its normal size. Grooooody. Joe and I got to watch doc stitch up our Dave. It was gross. But Dave got 3 stitches - which makes for a cooler story than just 2 stitches. Yesss. Dave was like, "I'm gonna be pissed if I don't have to get any stitches. I at least want a good story out of this damnit." Joe got all serious and was like, "So, Dr. Leap, is Dave going to be able to play guitar well after this?" Dr. Leap, without skipping a beat was like, "Could Dave ever play guitar well?" Joe was like "Awwww man, I reeeally wanted to use that line! Gah." Haha. Joe got served.Then Dr. Leap told us gross and weird stories about guys who got bit by snakes and dudes who lost 3 limbs. Ewwww. Then the nurse had to come in and wrap up Dave's bloody disaster. She was like, "Now, keep this clean and don't get this wet." Dave was like, "ummmm how am I supposed to clean it and not get it wet?" I laughed. I couldn't help it. She was like, "get it wet when you clean it, but keep it dry when you shower." Dave was like "Ummm..." I was like "Wear a floaty!!"

Save An Otter. Wear A Floaty.
So we finally got home around 4:30. Dave was stitched, Joe and I got to laugh our asses off and come home with cool party favors and we had more fun than anyone should ever have in the Emergency Room. Who knew the hospital could be such a laughable event?

Just Like Ronnie Said

So yeah, karaoke got a little out of control Tuesday night. First, we took over the front table. Really pissed off Vixen and Company. Oh well. We're cooler. And we wear bras. Second, Ed Miller took a mini vacation. Which was really a disapointment. Third, we were complete stage whores. Joe signed us up as "Nicole and Such" to sing Take Me Home Tonight. Lord. Me, Joe, Candle and Jayson all went crazy on stage. Even did the point and thrust. So yeah, we were funny. And it was bound to happen. The four of us sing that song like, ohhh, all the time. So it was only right to perform it drunk for all to witness. Then all of a sudden Vanilla Ice was playing and me and Jon took over one of the microphones and screamed the entire song while using the hydraulics.
We took a mini break and just hung out at the table. Literally. Joe told me to put my stairs away. Yeah, it's an inside joke, I don't really expect many of you to understand. Then I had a text message war with Adam. Well, not really a war. We're dorks and have too much fun with texting, basically. And I just got a new camera phone, so I was very distracted for most of the night. But then again, it's me, and I am kind of one big distraction all the time...
One really cool part -- the awesome bartender gave me a free pitcher! Only charged me for one -- so I tipped him like 120%. Fair. They treat me right.
Then these crazy black people took over the stage to sing Back That Ass Up. Candle and I felt compelled to join. Well, Joe had to kind of push me around a few times, but then I was like "yeah, okay, I should be up there." This massive black dude was all like, "damn girl, you need to be up here in the front so everyone can see those fine ass moves." Guess where I went? To the front. I'm such a stagewhore. I know. Gah. Yeah, I thought I blew out my hydraulics in Charleston. Looks like they are back in business. Yessss.
So then somehow we were the last song of the night -- Shot through the heart and you're to blame, honey, you give love a baaad name! Me, Joe, Candle and Jayson went bananas. Joe and I had the microphones and basically sang to each other most of the time. There was a brief moment where I yelled "Jon Brown, you give love a bad name!" Haha. He cracked up. As did I. And about half the bar. I also incorporated the "Cha" into the lyrics about 6 good times. Ed Miller would have been proud.
The four of us and Jayson's fun friend Chris all went back to Joe's where we made our own Waffle House. This WaHo was much nicer to Candle than the real one. Poor girl. So yeah, I made 12 eggs, Joe made 14 sausages and we all ate the hell out of some breakfast. At one point, we were all silent and Jayson blurts out: why am i trying to put the sausage in my mouth longways? And damnit none of you better quote me! I actually spit milk out of my mouth. Sorry, honey that is too funny to not blog about. LoveyouJayson! God, that kid cracks me up more than anyone else. Candle ended up passing the fuck out like in the middle of the floor, Jayclimbingtrees and Chris went home, and Joe and I stayed up listening to techo and beating the crap out of each other. Sorry we were so loud. Ha.

In other news: I beat gray box Nintendo Wednesday night. It only took me 22 years and 54 men to make Mario 3 my bitch. And don't make fun. You people love me. So be proud.