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!