Senior Crawl, Too Fast Too Furious Cars and Horrible Dance Moves

First, CONGRATULATIONS to all who graduated from USC (Spartanburg included) this weekend. Absolutely awesome. I can't believe I graduate from Clemson in 5 days. Whoa. In honor of all we have done at the fine University, we are celebrating by taking part in what is known as Senior Walk. We do feel that the name should be altered since Senior Walk only consists of walking around downtown to all the bars to get hotass discounts on drinks; therefore we like to call it Senior Crawl. There will also be some Senior Stumble, but inevitably we will all be forced to bumble around by the end of the night on our hands and knees. Which I look forward to greatly. So, I chose to prep you for the entry that will occur post Senior Walk. We get to wear these t-shirts that say senior walk, which is really just a nice way to say alcoholic. But hey, it's gonna get me a free corona and happy hour prices everywhere. I'll take it. Also, our beloved Joe Long decided we need to take a taxi, though not a taxi cab, but rather a taxi van. Because it will be fun to see how many of us we can pile into one. And also because it will cost everyone approximately $1.72 to travel DT and back. And that is the bomb. I'm so excited to write the entry that will encompass the Senior Crawl experience. Makes me clap thinking about it.
So, I went car shopping today. Woo woo! New Celica here I come! I really really like this yellow one, but mom and i are semiskittish because weird people would then know I drive a yellow car - and hot girl with hot car can potentially lead to way creepy stalker people. And I've had one too many in my life of those. One being one too many... stupid bitch... so yeah, car shopping. Yes I realize I kind of want to own a too fast too furious car, but if being a car club kid was cool, I would so be one. My whole family is car obbsessed. It happens. We like to look at pretty things. I just happen to like pretty cars that look like they could be on some race track next to Paul Walker. Don't judge. Yep. I also got to drive the badass camero to go car shopping. Yes, I am a spoiled brat. This I know.
Okay, lastly I want to talk about Friday night at Overtime. Okay really, if you are black, dance black. Don't let white girls show you up. So like really, Puff Daddy was at the bar.. or at least some lame ass who wanted to be ol' Puff Dummy. He had on these stupid sunglasses with like the gold wire rimmed effect, this extremely oversized basketball jersey that said something like "Numba 1 Stunna" on the back that was florescent orange and white, horribly baggy jeans and Air Force Ones complements of Nelly. He also had these strange orange colored streamer-like tassle things hanging from his pocket. Derrick was like "What is that?" I was like "... an octopus...?" I have no damn clue what the were - but they seemingly resembled those bike streamers we used to put on our handlebars when we were 8. So cool. ... Moron ... And his dance moves consisted of him stompping twice to the left and then like 3 times to the right. I was like "What, is this the Cha Cha Slide?! Do something!" And he'd clap and then do the rub-your-hands together shit and clap some more. Then stomp again. Do a twirl. Stop. Size up every female in the place. Waddle over to his buddies. And stomp. Ugh. Please someone smack me in the forehead if I do gay things like that. Really. So being the show off I am (Megan too) we pranced out to the dance floor, busted a few moves that were 485 times cooler than P. Dumbass and then took our respective seats back at the bar. To take more shots. Complements of the awesome ass bartender who likes to hook us way up. Woo woo. And yummy shots are always cooler than a stomping, clapping Puff Daddy.

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