Dirty Myrtle Style

Lets be real here - The weekend of March 4-6 was EPIC.

I gathered up my 5 biggest party girls - Cortni, Erin, Angel, Amanda, and Lisa - stuffed them in the Jeep along with some ridiculous party favors and fantastic plans, and drove our asses up the coast for 2 hours to THE DIRTY MYRTLE!


Cortni and I decided a few months ago that we needed a Girls' Weekend.  You never really need a reason for a Girls' Weekend, but we figured it'd be more fun if we had some kind of event to plan around.  This year was going to be my "Golden Birthday" (turning 28 on the 28th), and my BFITWWW (Best Friend in the Whole Wide World), Erin, happens to celebrate her birthday 8 days after mine, and conveniently, there was a weekend right in the middle of our birthdays.  Therefore, it only made sense to head to The Dirty the first weekend in March.

Erin came down on Dirty Eve (the Thursday before we left) and her and I might have accidentally gotten buzzy at dinner and then went shopping at the Walmart.  Then we might have accidentally bought 6 Disney-themed cups that features characters such as Ariel, Tink, and Pooh...  Because drinking wine out of Princess cups just makes more sense, if you ask me.

First order of business:  turn on party tunes and consume 2 bottles of wine the moment we enter The Camelot Hotel!  Once we had a nice little buzzy buzz, we helped Angel muster up some courage to go get her nose pierced. And of course, the Myrtle Coupon Book would have a coupon for $10 off a piercing of your choice... so we all pile in the car, drive over to Jackie's piercing salon and stand around wide-eyed as we watch Angel willingly put herself through the pain of the nose piercing.  I conveniently failed to mention that it hurts like hell to let someone shove a needle through your nostril,  but instead encouraged her that she'll love it and it's a quick piercing (both true... but man it hurts like shiiiit to pierce your face).  She was brave and now has a freaking adorable little diamond stud on the left side of her perfect little swoopy nose.  Hotness. 

We went back to our hotel for some more dancin' and draaankin' in the kitchen.  It was then that I had the epiphany regarding why my friends are my friends and why we all get along so well.  After some random conversation peppered with burps, and grunts, and hand gestures, and sounds used to mimic complete thoughts, I realized the common link between all of my friends: we are noisy as hell! We use random sounds as much as we use real words to tell stories. We are all extremely animated and somehow, standing in a dirty hotel kitchen, it all came to me in that moment - I love my friends because they could all easily be characters on TV.  These girls have so much personality and good God, when you bring us all together, well, MTV could totally have another show called The Dirty Shore...

So then it was time to actually go drink outside of our hotel room.  We called a cab (and obviously did our best Pauly D "cabs are here" impressions).  We befriended our cabby, Randy, and promised to call him all weekend when we needed our asses hauled to the next given bar, and then set off for Broadway at the Beach to go make a scene.

Senor Frogs seemed to be the right choice for dinner.  We walked in, all loud and obnoxious, and fit right in.  We managed to have about 3 servers at any given time and they seemed to want to continually feed us Jell-O shots, which was totally cool with us, so we took some shots, danced on the furniture, and paraded around like morons for a few hours.  Erin was selected to lead the restaurant in the Cupid Shuffle - you go guuurl.  I don't even know how/why it happened - they started playing ass-shaking music, so clearly, that meant it was time for us to stop stuffing quesadillas in our faces and wobble toward the dance floor and as soon as we got over there, some guy (I'm now no longer sure if he worked there or was just enthusiastic about the Cupid Shuffle)  was all "YOU!  Get up here and teach us how to do th' damn thiiing"  and grabbed Erin.  So Erin led the entire place in the most awesome version of the Cupid Shuffle. Ever.

((... I knew I bought us those "We are total Fucking Bad Asses" pins for a good reason...))

After dinner, we went to Froggy Bottomz to shake our freaking asses.  Somehow we attracted the attention of the nerdiest "Bachelor" party ever, however by the end of the night we were fairly convinced that this pack of dudes were all liars and just using that as an excuse to dance like morons and occasionally smack Cortni's ass.  But really, you can't blame them because I make up dumb excuses all the time so that I, too, can dance like a moron and occasionally smack Cortni's ass.  

Also, were you aware that if you give people a prop while on the dance floor they will absolutely morph into a different person all together?  It's true.  I prefer to go the gangsta route.  Others opt to become seductive.  There are plenty of options, but the outcome is always the same: you instantly feel cooler than you really are but you think you're that cool because you now have a sweet dance prop.  Take a fucking fedora onto any dance floor and people will (a) flock to you, (b) try to steal it from your head every chance they get...bastards, and (c) take on a new "I'm a total bad ass" persona.  Amazing. 
We topped off the night by calling Randy and having him take us to the closest pizza place that was still open at 2:00 AM. 

We got up Saturday, looked through all our pictures to piece together the hazy parts of the night, then we recalled all the ridiculousness.  A few things we made fun of each other for: Cortni attempted to find a nice black man for Erin to make-out with, Erin may have been in the middle of some strange gay men sexy dance which happened to include the douchey guy in the white sunglasses and what we believe to be his boyfriend, and Angel threw her entire purse in the toilet - on accident, of course.

Of course we did the two things that you absolutely must do every time you visit The Dirty: 1. Get airbrush t-shirts and 2. Get henna tattoos. We came out with a bird, a flower, some angel wings, and a skull & crossbones. See? We really are total fucking bad asses. 


Then we started drinking again, because really, there was nothing better to do.   We sat around on the couch and played an inappropriate number of rounds of Never Have I Ever.  The outcome:  Yeah, we're all basically going to Hell.  But we probably already knew that anyway. 

We called Randy again and he took our asses back to Broadway so we could find some drunk dinner.  We ate at Hard Rock, but it was too bright and our waiter was a moron.  So we kind of ate in a hurry and did our best not to give him judgey looks when he said he didn't know how to split the check 6 ways.  

Then it was time for the piano bar!  And for real, Crocodile Rocks is freaking fun.  Erin, Angel, and Amanda left before they could witness my 5 minutes of fame, which was really unfortunate because I was completely made fun of by the entire bar, which surprisingly, or not really so surprisingly, I am very okay with.

Let me 'splain.  See, you can pay the adorable piano men to play you a song. Your money, combined with the audacity of your request,  may just be enough to have your song played.  Apparently, Cortni's $20 and scribbly napkin that read "Play something dirty for Nicole - it's her birthday" was exactly the right combination for MY humiliation. 

So Mr. Piano Man is all "Where's Nicole?  Come sit on my piano."  So I did.  In my ridiculous airbrush t-shirt, blinky button, and fucking (bad ass) fedora...  And the song he chose for me apparently required crowd participation, as in, the louder they are, the dirtier his song will get. While I cannot recall all of this beautiful melody, I do know that his lyrics contained words such as fisting, butt sex, and gang bangs.

For the finale, he asked Cortni to accompany me on stage and then he looked around for a "trophy."  He picked up a cup. I immediately knew what he was going to sing/do and I began loudly protesting that I would not participate.  Think about it - two girls with one cup.  Noooo.  He asked us both to hold onto said cup and that's exactly how he finished the song "blah blah orgy blah... two girls and a cup!"  I put my face in my hat and hung my head in shame.  But really, I was secretly proud that I was the only lady that got to sit on his piano and be made fun of for 5 minutes.  It was awesome.

(Unfortunately there are no pictures because my dumb ass had the camera in my back pocket the entire time I was sitting on that damn piano swinging my feet back and forth. It's probably okay that there is no evidence. But I'm okay with blackmail, so I really wish I had left the camera with Cortni & Lisa. I guess this means we have to go back and try again?)

Then we wanted to hear something ridiculous.  And rap-like.  "Yeah" by Usher was of course the only choice.  However, we did not want to pay anymore money for this, so we had to get real creative with it. 

And then the best idea ever happened.

Pay. in. MUSTACHE! 

I conveniently had a mustache in my purse.  What? You don't keep a stick-on mustache next to your lip gloss and iPhone?  Get with the program.
Cortni wiggled up to the stage to place our request on the top of the pile and directly in Mr. Piano Man's line of vision.  After he finished up the song he was on, which may have been along the lines of Cotton-Eye Joe, he looked over at his new request.  Written on napkin, and paid for in mustache.  And he then lost his shit and cracked up and explained that it was absolutely necessary for him to not only play the next request, but to explain to the entire bar exactly what he was looking at.  He was all "Okay, so the song request alone is completely ridiculous but the way it was chosen to be paid for means I have no choice but to absolutely play this song right now.  The song is "Yeah" by Usher, and I'm not kidding, it has a mustache attached to it!"

And with that, he put on his mustache and banged around on the piano keys and did a fancy mash-up of Yeah and some Ying-Yang Twinz shit and it was the most amazing performance ever for so many reason but mostly because he wore our mustache.


We left Croc Rocks and accidentally ended up at the strip club.  That served keg beer in red Solo cups.  We stayed just long enough to watch one of the strippers do some booty pop one-buttcheek-at-a-time thing and to witness some crazy bitch eating Wendy's. In the bathroom. Of the strip club.  It was time to go after that.  Jesus Christ.  We had Randy stop to get us more pizza and then we passed the shit out.


Sunday we all woke up hungover but happy with our success of the weekend.  We found a pancake place and stuffed our faces and talked about how much we love each other and how this was the best idea ever. 

And it totally was. 


1 Response to "Dirty Myrtle Style"

  1. Queen Amanda Says:

    Fav Random Story of the weekend:
    Comma To The Top!