The Napkin Diaries

An accidental tradition has started springing up around this time every year: getting all shitfaced on a Tuesday when Laura's on Thanksgiving Break from school and therefore back in Charleston with nothing to do but get shitfaced on a Tuesday.

If you recall, I wrote a little post about Ladies' Night two years ago. While there were no stripper interactions this time, the premise was still the same - Laura was in town, which equates to "get your ass back into college-mode because you're about to act like a lunatic all night." For those of you that don't know Laura, please go "friend" my ass on Facebook (or better yet, just go "friend" her ass, or just her, whatever...) so you can watch her in action. And by "in action," I mean, watch her fail miserably as she tries to untangle herself from the briars that latched onto her and how all of her friends stand by to watch and laugh instead of actually help. We love you. :)

So as I was saying, Laura was in town. Which means I have a lot to live up to here. I took her strip club virginity a few years ago, so obviously I have to continue to offer wild entertainment. It's kinda like trying to continue to impress the man that you've been on a few dates with - you don't want him to ever think you're boring. Laura is totally *that* date, for me.

We began our evening at Bucca's - Husband, Billy, Laura, and I sat in our favorite corner booth and ordered a shit ton of wings and shoved them in our faces in between chugging our beers. By 7:00 I had a buzz. Win. Of course one of the first topics at hand was "where is the night going to take us?" The obvious answer: Strip club. So, we decide that we should prepare. At this point, the probability of ending up there was pretty much 100%. (Don't you judge us.)

We didn't want to have to use the strip club ATM because they charge you like a $13 ATM fee, or some kind of bullshit, and of course the ATM only spits out twenties, so you have to then go to the bar to get singles, but instead of singles they give you $2 bills, which means you are essentially paying double for each time you go to the stage and that's just ridiculous and we weren't going to stand for that crap. And then when you have left-over $2 bills and you have to use them somewhere normal in society, people totally look at you with their "judging eyes" and assume that either (a) you are a stripper or (b) you were entertained by one. SO. Our preparation technique? Go to Bi-Lo, buy one ridiculous item and get a shit ton of cash back in one-dollar bills. It's not even 8:00 PM when we bust in Bi-Lo like a bunch of heathens on a mission. I opted to purchase a trashy magazine. The cashier gave me an attitude and was like "are you seriously only buying a magazine?!" I was like "Ummm yesssss. I need cash back. Duh." I was too embarrassed to get more than 10 ones, so I got 10 ones, 2 fives, and a twenty. Laura also opted for the trashy magazine route, but incorporated a pack of gum as well. Smarty pants.

So, after our Bi-Lo excursion, we went to Wild Wing where Amanda and Rachel met up with us. Yay, friends. The chemistry was apparently right because we all got super goofy and hilarious at this point. There was no real rhyme or reason to any of our antics. Basically a really good analogy for us is one of those cartoon tornadoes with arms & legs all flying out of the sides. You have no idea where the shit storm is going to go, you just know it's going to be an entertaining ride.

So remember how I was telling you about how Laura got stuck in the briars? Well that happened a few weeks ago when my old college crew got together for a football game (or really just an excuse to sit outside all day and pound cheap beer and pretend to still be in college. Whatever, I like to relive my glory days, as often as possible. I'm not sorry.) Well, at this particular tailgate, my brudder Michael was there. And let me tell you people, brudder is funny. As shit. Seriously. For whatever reason, his particular "saying" of the day was "jeet.da.beet.dur.dah....heee heee." Think Michael Jackson, people. You know, the beatbox-ish noises followed by the squeals? Yep, that's it. Brudder was all about it. He gets on these tangents and keeps a little phrase for a month or so and then moves on to the next hilarious compilation of words to play out. Well, obviously jeet.da.beet.dur.dah caught on. A lot. Like, Laura & I said it 200 times that day. And we may or may not have drove everyone crazy in the process. It was wildly entertaining for us... so much so that we continued our jeet.da.beet.dur.dah-ing during her Charleston visit. On a Tuesday. In a Wild Wing. at 9:00 PM with very few people in the place. And we may or may not have screamed this at the top of our lungs. And Laura may or may not have shoved her foot up in the air above her head while sitting in the booth while screaming jeet.da.beet.dur.dah.

(I totally should have written a blog like a good blogger would have about the Clemson Reunion weekend because then this blog would probably be even funnier, but I didn't because I suck and I'm sorry.)

Somehow then the conversation turned to Lady Gaga. Laura was pretty much obsessed with her new song, "Bad Romance," so she was pretty much singing it all night. But as Laura said she was "faking sucking" while singing it. Yeah, that's what she said. Totally. See, Laura actually can sing really REALLY well, but to not look like a total weirdo snob, she tends to refrain from seriously serenading us on a regular basis, so instead she opts to "fake suck" her singing abilities... which actually can make for a pretty hysterical rendition of Lady Gaga. What is it with us and singers who just grunt? "Jeet.da.beet.dur.dah." was soon replaced with "Rah ra ROMA maa." A very throaty, growly, Sharkira-esque "Rah ra ROMA maa," mind you.

And then the conversation turned disgusting... as in, I'm having a hard time actually typing this because it's so offensive. Basically, we all nodded in agreement that butt holes look like balloon knots. Little black balloon knots. Ugh. Gross. Now I have to take a shower. Moving on. Quickly.

And then, the most glorious thing happened. Laura was building her usual cryptic toothpick message... let me give you some background: this one time, we were at another Wild Wing, and our server was really bad, and she never checked on us or brought us any drinks and I'm sure it had nothing to do with the fact that that week our particular phrase of choice was "BIIIRTTTTHHHHDAAAAYYY" and so we got real mad. And Laura decided to take action to let her know just how mad we were. So mad that she left a little message for our server made out of toothpicks. That may or may not have spelled "fuck our server." (You can read about that shit show here.) Ahh, another tradition: toothpick messages. So, on this Wild Wing evening, it only seemed fitting for Laura to make more little messages for us. She was kinda in her own little world, dumping toothpicks all over the table, snapping them in half and arranging them ever so delicately on the dirty Wild Wing table, when suddenly, we really wanted to hear Laura beatbox. She's surprisingly good at this, I'll have you know. So we were all like "Hey Laura? Beatbox! Now!" And without hesitation, she took a deep breath, formed her mouth in the perfect beatbox preparation pucker, and let out a giant "ppppfftt tahhh pah teeee."

And then, the funniest thing in the world happened and none of us saw it coming...

Laura apparently collected a ton of air with that giant breath she took pre-beatbox. So uh, what comes in must go out?? And yeah, when she went to let out the perfect beginning to the perfect beatbox, all of that sucked-in air came wooshing out. With tremendous beatbox force.

Right on top of her toothpick masterpiece.

It was a fucking toothpick tornado. The most perfectly-time, unsuspecting fucking toothpick tornado ever to be seen.

I'm fairly certain I've never laughed that hard. Especially at something I didn't expect. All I wanted was to hear Laura whip out some sweet beatbox beats, maybe even Lady Gaga beatbox beats, but instead, I was selected to be on of the chosen few to ever be so lucky to witness the best accidental toothpick tornado in history.

Laura gathered herself and quickly resumed toothpick construction. Her masterpiece again showcased the general consensus of the events of the evening. Her masterpiece was artfully crafted to display the most perfect description ever:

Toothpick Fail.

And that's the time we got all shitfaced on a Tuesday when Laura was on Thanksgiving Break from school and therefore back in Charleston with nothing to do but get shitfaced on a Tuesday.

This weekend Dave and I went to Waynesville. Instead of having a calm, quiet weekend full of family and activities such as hiking, it turned into one big drunken blur. Oops. Gee, who didn't see that coming? Friday night was spent around Billy's kitchen table with a case of beer and a deck of cards. We played like 17 rounds of asshole... we ended up with rules such as "everyone will refer to Nicole as 'Lemon Meringue.'" That was Brandon's rule. I don't know why. Needless to say, we didn't wake up until 1:00 pm on Saturday.
Saturday we just watched Clemson lose to Maryland... damnit and then bought an awesome case of Busch Light. I'm not even kidding. Billy and Brandon came over to Dave's around midnight and we decided that board games were the coolest thing to do for the remainder of the night. Before Billy and Brandon got there though, Dave and I played a few rounds of Guess Who. Remember, its the game where you say "is your person a girl? does your person wear glasses? is your person ugly as shit?" and then you say, 'I know, you're alfred!" Well, we shuffled the deck and, no kidding, Dave picked "David" for the first three games in a row. Had he picked David one more time, we might have had to burn the game and go get Mom.
Once the boys arrived, Dave went to pick out a different game that had drinking-game potential. He chose the game called BONKERS!

Here are the rules: Each player picks 4 cards. These cards say things like "Go forward 12 spaces," "Go back 4 spaces," "Go directly to Score" and things like that. You roll the dice and move foward that many spaces and then you get to lay one of your cards down as long as there is not a card already there. If there is a card there, you will continue to do what the cards say until you land on an empty spot. The object is to lay these cards down so you will end up in a "Score" zone. When you land on "score" you get a point and the first person to 12 points wins. You can also get a point if you create what we liked to call a conundrum. A conundrum occurs when you lay down, for example a "Go forward 5 spaces," and then you lay down "Go back 5 spaces," thus, you are in a conundrum and no matter what you do, you are stuck until you roll the dice again. Little did we know that this game would go on for almost 2 hours because of all the conundrums that we created.
Of course funny shit began to be said by everyone, so I, of course, had to create a "funny shit" list. It all started when all four of us were stuck in a conumdrum over on the left side of the board. I blurt out "it's like the Bermuda triangle! No wait... the BEER-muda triangle!" We seriously had to take a timeout because we all laughed so hard for so long that we could barely breathe or see. We kept playing the game and the following funny shit was said over the course of the 2 hour Bonkers experience:

Brandon: Carry me to the fridge, Billy.
Dave: A Bonker's back ride.

Dave: Can you believe we got drunk on Bonkers? Can you believe there is a game called Bonkers?!

Dave: This isn't Bonkers! This should be called MEAN. Exclamation point... quotations included.

Brandon: Do something stupid.
Dave: Do you want me to do Billy?

Brandon: You look gay sober.

I really don't know why any of these things were said or in what context, but they were amusing, nonetheless. I'm not sure if we ever actually finished the game. We seriously could not get out of the conundrum we created. You basically had to roll like a 12 or 7 to break out of the conundrum, but then if you didn't roll the same numbers again, once you were out, you'd just end up right back in. Reeeeeediculous. At some point, Billy and I, combined, knocked over 4 beers. The last one I knocked over, I didn't even realize I had knocked it over because I was rolling around on the floor begging for the game to end. Dave started yelling at me to sit up... after I had already acquired beer all over my shoulder. Billy sprinted to the bathroom to grab the box of tissues. I thought he was going to be super helpful and come smash them into the beer puddle so it wouldn't soak into the carpet. No. Instead, he just stood on the other side of the couch and hurled the tissues, one by one, at my head. I had to try to collect as many tissues as possible before all the beer was consumed by the carpet. It was like a freaking scene from Legends of the Hidden Temple or some shit. The person who collects the most tissues and soaks up the most evil fluid wins a Sony Karaoke Machine... no, all I won was a giant beer-soaked tissue wad that was used as a giant beer-soaked spit wad that continued to be hurled at my head for the rest of the evening. Thanks. I think we finally gave up around 4:00 am. We doubt that another game of Bonkers will ever be played quite as greatly as the one that was produced Saturday night. To celebrate our awesome drinking-game creation skills, I made some grilled cheeses. I'm impressed that I didn't burn down the Kuhlman residence. Awesome, and much needed weekend.

In random news: everytime Dave and I got in the truck this weekend, we insisted on blaring "Under Pressure," by Queen. Mostly because we liked to scream along when he would do the "Ba da dup ba day" nonsense.

i just wanted to let you know, that right now, at this very moment... i am getting waaaaasted with dave. (he's the first best man in my life). and the term waaaaasted has been coined by joe long, for those that do not know.
evan williams is my second favorite man. and i owe my drunkness to him. yessss.
and i really wanted to write this blog mostly so i could use the little "drunk" mood guy. ha.

yay, i got to see what's left of the clemson gang last night. i haven't seen erin and joe since i moved over a month ago - sad, man. it was so weird being back in clemson. i definitely felt like i had "outgrown" it -- that, or i am just excited and happy to be in charleston, so i don't necessarily miss "clemson." i do, however, miss me some erin and joe like whoa.
we are all such light weights now. it's laughable. joe and i were drunk off the fabulous champagne spritzers i introduced you people to a few blogs ago by 6:00...in the afternoon. lord.
we got to run into 40 Friend Zach and Mills and Snider, and that always equals a good time. Zach chose to bite instead of hug, however, so the side of my face and my shoulder blade are slightly bruised... damnit, Zach.
of course, we had to make the signature waffle house trip at the end of our evening. joe was particularly hungry and opted to order two meals. my arteries hurt just thinking about the grease. eww.
so yeah, yay for having amazing friends. i hope you know how much you mean to me. and really, you know you have fabulous friendships when you can miss a whole month and be able to go back to the way things always were without ever missing a beat. i love you maniacs.

obviously, all of us have our ways of dealing with stress, life, morons, etc. we all definitely have signs that these types of things are headed our way, too. recently, i have been having terrible dreams that people are trying to kidnap me, hurt me, or vandalize my car. and i've also been encountering debilitating migraines for days in a row.
you may be thinking that i would be crawled up in the fetal position in the corner by this point, but i have chosen an amusing array of alleviating tactics to combat my horrid stress. first, there is the champagn spritzer that i was so kindly introduced to via megan at the pool yesterday. thank god for $4 champange and fresca. who knew? this reliever helped me not feel fat in my bikini, allowed me to dismiss the fact that i have no income or money in general, and conclude that apartment leases and managers are crooked and lawyers can be a real good thing.
GSN can be accredited for stress relieving tactic #2. i mean, how can i possibly worry about idiots that go into the esso looking for me still or if my loan is being approved when classic shows like family feud and whammy are on tv? i'm way too involved in helping players chant for big money to be concerned about my own ishures. not issues.
lastly, i've always been aware that i'm weird. i'm okay with that. the way i chose to forget about pending problems completely validates my weirdness. instead of studying or crying or drinking, today i chose to groom my eyebrows. with scissors. now, for those of you who know me well, you understand that i cannot cut a straight line and that most of the time i cannot cut anything at all due to my left-handedness. i also have a tendency to get angry and attempt to cut my hair and end up with missing chunks. however, i mananged to successfully leave most of my eyebrows in tact and well-positioned. but i mean really, who honestly puts scissors to their own face when in their right frame of mind.
at least i realize that i'm seriously on edge and stressed out. but i appreciate myself for not being a basketcase about it all. however, i have found it challenging to be your own counselor... i'm thinking i might buy some coloring books or paint the apartment next.

This was one of the best weekends I have had in a really long time. And by best, I mean drunk. Interchangable words, really. So, Jayson came into town Friday night. We went to Monterray's at like 6:30, where Joe and Jayson were already drunkish. We started this conversation about how we wanted to buy a kiddy pool and sit in it with rubber duckies and beer.

It progressed to us wanting to buy one of this bigger pools and turn it into a hot tub... and keep it in Dave's room since he was out of town this weekend. Then we embellished. Imagine that. We said the damned thing would probably fall through the floor and Dave would hurt us using his spy techniques for ruining his room. Well, Jayson chimes in with, "quick, I need a 2x4 and some pantyhose!" Apparently, this was his genious solution to our hot tub falling figuratively through the floor. We didn't understand either. But damn, did we find that to be the funniest comment of the weekend. Everything that happened, the solution was "2x4 and pantyhose." Oh no, I spilled my drink; I have insanely dirty feet; an old mistake just walked into the bar -- regardless of the situation, the solution remained constant.
And that is funny. Because of the funniness, I took it upon myself to create a scroll of sayings from the evening. I kept a napkin rolled around a pen and whipped it out anytime someone said something worth remembering.

We went to Esso after Monterray's, where Joe took the liberty of berating one of the girls that works there. She had no idea she was the victim of such ridicule, however. Joe decided the girl looked like a dinosaur based on the largeness of her forehead and positioning of her snout-like nose. Poor girl. This conversation also progressed into a hypothetical about velociraptors. Something about "velociraptors killing a fucker." However, at the time I could not spell this word, so I used phonics. The conversation went like this:
N: is that how you spell it? and pointed to my attempts -- valasa raptor
Jayson: just claim you were using phonetics, bitch.. when you write your blog
N: i don't know how to spell that either!

Joe told me that my spelling attempt looked more like a type of salad dressing choice than a flesh-eating beast. By the way, the picture is Joe's demonstration of the dinosaur girl. Eh. We had our fill of making fun of people and watching Jayson do dumb things, like light his broken cigarette at the end and at the spot where it was broken... and smoke it, and went to TDs. Immediately when we walked into TDs, I felt particularly out of place. This was because everyone in the bar was wearing orange t-shirts. I thought we perhaps had crashed a private gathering. No. Turns out these maniacs were trying to create a $1000 bar tab to get their names nailed to the wall. Whatever. We got free drinks out of it, so cool. This group of girls walked in all decked out with one wearing a sash and tierra. Jayson screamed "Happy Birthday!" The girls turned around and were like, "no, it's a bachelorette party." Jayson responds, "Happy...... Marriage?!" Oh Jayson. You're so drunk. We finished the evening at Tiger Town. By this point we were all wastecases and I no longer can recall particular incidents for you beacuse its blurry from this point on. Sweet. We had high hopes of making it to Tiger Tails Friday night. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, we got shit housed and decided that Beezers and bed was a much better way to end the evening.

Saturday, Megan decided to road trip her happy ass up here. Do the math: Jayson and Megan in town + Joe and Nicole in full fledged bar star mode = drunk. We went downtown already buzzed from playing Power 37 minutes (as opposed to Power Hour). We started at TTTs where Jayson picked up some notepads that were randomly strewn across a table. Beckoning him, of course. He drew us a picture of the 4 of us, anatomically correct of course - me with big hair and big boobs, Jayson short with squinty eyes and Joe and Megan. Ha. He was like "What are there 4 of??" Without skipping a beat, I screamed "Ninja Turtles!"
WTF? So we were the 4 Ninja Turtles. We went to Overtime early to get our signature spot -- the front booth/couch area. And we got so drunk so damn fast. Probably because little miss Megan decided it would be awesome to come back from the bar with a mind eraser and a black & blue shot. Thanks. Keep in mind that these two shots sperate fuck my whole world up. Combined, back to back none the less, makes for seriously fucking up of the world. I went buck freakin' wild. Like, so ridiculous that I was dancing on the couch because, apparently I was too good for the floor, with these two huge black guys who made me kinda look like that scene from Night at the Roxbury. I got sick of stabbing holes in the couch.. so I took off my damn shoes. Gross. Who does that? Really. Didn't even phase me, either; seemed like the most logical idea of the night. Can I please mention that my feet are still black and I scrubbed them for about 30 minutes in the shower today. Ewww. I kinda shudder when I think about what has been on that couch. Then I walked to the car barefoot too. Smart. I honestly can't really give specifics for Saturday night either. All I know is that I did a horrid job trying to take pictures, I had huge hair, Kevin and Leah were there and we danced our asses off. Like I said best/drunkest weekend in a while. I love it.

*to prove my drunkness, I completely failed to mention that the one and only Stephanie was there too. She informed me with this IM:
takenoteladyso...my dancing skills didn't make it into your blog...haha...i felt sure that i created an equally bad scene with my booty skirt and cowboy boots that i for some reason felt were appropriate while i drunkenly contemplated going to OT....you and i were quite a pair on that couch. hahaha your pics of your weekend entertain me!!
and Steph, now that you mention it, I do recall you helping me create a fantastic scene on the couch. So thank you for reminding me (sorry that the Mind Eraser did it's job and I failed to include you in the debauchery). And yes, as I recall, you did help create an equally ridiculous scene. Which is all the more reason I love you.

We accidentally had a party at our apartment Saturday night. Dave, Joe, Shawn, Corey and Dan came over to entertain Erin and me. While 7 people may not seem destructive... don't be fooled. Especially by this particular group. First, we played What the F*ck? The outrageous drinking game wherein you are posed with assonine questions such as "The director of Baywatch asks you to appear in an episode as a drowned victim wearing only a thong. Do you appear in the show?" and "As you age, what would you rather resemble? (a) A horse's ass (b) A waffle iron." Then you are supposed to guess the answer of the person who was asked the question... if you get it wrong, you drink. Needless to say, we all got drunk. At some point, I went to the bathroom and when I returned I found that everything on the table was now on the floor and there was somewhat of a mini panic occurring. Apparently Dan's big feet got in the way and knocked over the whole damned table. Including my last glass of Reunite! (For those of you who drink expensive wine, you many not be aware that Reunite is a "soft red" that basically is sparkingly grapejuice that you find in Ingles for $8 a gallon that gets me way drunk. Yay, cheap date.) So we gathered some cleaning supplies, pretended to clean and continued to play ridiculous games. At this point I think we were playing Circle of Death. Well, I don't know exactly what sparked Erin to do the following... maybe it was banging her head into the doorframe, maybe it was falling on her ass... but I believe it was her who threw a couple of cards from the game at one of the boys. So, they threw some cards back. Then Erin launched the entire deck of cards and the remote control. We all then began to participate in the "throw anything you can find" game. The aftermath looked like a bit of a tornado happened in 148 K. There were 2 decks of cards, 500 sweet tarts, wet paper towels, dry paper towels, chips, pillows, beer cans and other assorted objects strewn about the apartment. Apparently, that game led to another game... of Joe and Corey wrestling in the kitchen. Erin tried to break them up and got quasi-beat up in the processs. Bloody knee, to be exact. Her efforts went unnoticed. So, I chose to step in and take action... with the water sprayer from the sink. I sprayed the hell out of them, all the while taunting them by saying things like, "Yeah. See? How do you like that? That'll make you jackasses stop wrestling!" Karma's a bitch and of course, they retaliated and got me soaked, in turn. Joe used a bowl in the sink to splash all over me, to be exact. At least I got the bastards to stop before they broke my kitchen. We left the apartment a disgusting, wet disaster and went downtown. It sucked. I spilled amaretto sour all over me, and I think I grew out of downtown Clemson. So, we rode the catbus home. Ha. Good times.

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.

This weekend I was in Raleigh for my cousin Katie's wedding. Her and Wade were getting married on Saturday. My family got to the Hilton hotel Friday night around 7:30, where we immediately began drinking. Something about traveling just makes us crazy. So me, Michael, Jen and Pete (the newlyweds), and Dave and Loren got hammered. Ha. We ended up at Denny's at midnight and we stuffed ourselves retarded just about. I ended up having creepy crazy dreams about this weird midget ugly ass guy in a green and white striped collared shirt with acid wash jeans on. He was standing in the middle of mine and Michael's beds in our hotel room just lookin at me. And he had insanely huge teeth. Ewwww. And I woke up, but it took my eyes a few seconds to adjust so like I could still see the image of the creepy midget man at the end of the bed. Gave me the heebee jeebees.
Saturday at 2:00, Wade and Katie became Mr. and Mrs. Hendrick. Pretty wedding. Katie looked gorgeous. We all made a mad dash for the reception back at the Hilton. It took Katie all of 47 minutes to get plastered. Aunt Sharon apparently had refused to feed Katie all day, and she's a little girl, so basically she got loaded and then got completely out of control. At first, the DJ was horrid. He played "No More I Love Yous" as the bridal party was walking in... because that makes sense. Way to set the scene for the next 50 years of their lives. Moron. He kinda looked like a fat Ben Stein. And was a complete cornball. Then he started playing his crazy violin and attempted to turn the place into some kind of ho-down. We finally told him, after about the 5th Boys II Men song, that he better change the song line up or we might have to kick his doofus ass. He did... but he ended up playing Real McCoy, Quad City DJs, and Ace of Base. I shit you not. And we actually did the train around the entire room while "Come on Ride the Train" was on. I was slightly uncomfortable because I was sort of supposed to latch onto Wade's dad, who used to/is some crazy CIA man. And plus, its just weird to touch any Dad's waist. Even though it was goofy 90s pop music, it allowed for the Cononie Shake however, so all were satisfied. I had to call Joe after "I Saw the Sign" was played. I couldn't take it anymore. Someone had to know just how ridiuculous this night really was.
So okay, we were all dancing, singing, sloshing our Coronas around, when we all kind of backed off and just watched in horror/shock as Katie went buck wild. You know what people look like when they are swatting bees above their heads? Yeah, Katie looked like that, but add that in with some weird hip swivelling and a big poofy wedding gown, a glass of wine in hand with the deathgrip to ensure it stays in place, and some "wooooooos" for vocal effect. Holygod it was too funny. Then after flailing her arms for a few moments, she'd bend herself in half, touch the floor, and pull her dress up on the way back to her upright position. Then she'd run around and rub her dress on the nearest 3 people, put it back down, flail about, then do some kicks, like the Russian Dance kicks.... in a wedding dress. Then she would add in a split or two, but always threw her hands in the air for someone to help stand her up. Repeat this 86 times for full effect.
Then came time for the throwing of the bouquet and garter. Jesus. First, her gay friend Jarred stood with the girls while she threw her flowers, then he also stood with the guys as Wade threw the garter. Let me first tell you about the garter removal experience. I actually had to look away it was so umm, tacky. Like really, Katie hiked her skirt up so high that we basically got a peepshow of her downstairs, she flailed around while sitting in the chair, then Wade used his teeth to pull the bitch off. He like licked her leg all the way down. I looked away around the time his tongue reached her kneecap.
Then Jarred had to put the garter on Stephanie who had caught the bouquet. Jarred also used his little gay teeth to apply the tainted garter to her leg. And um, her legs aren't exactly cute and small and dainty. We basically got to see Stephanie's downstairs too, since Jarred shoved the damn thing up as far as it would fit. Oh joy.
So needless to say, it was actually a hell of a good time for what started off as a lame reception. Around 9:30, me, Michael, Jen, Pete, Dave and Loren went swimming with about 22 beers (18 beers that each of us probably consumed at the wedding, plus a good 4 more for each while in the pool). Smart, I know. Really ridiculously fun though. We would sit in the hot tub, get grossly hot and then cannon ball into the pool and throw the life raft to each other or use the big stick to scoop each other out. It was only a 5 foot pool, but there were a few times I swore there was a bottomless pit beneath me. My ribs and abs actually hurt from running around and doing relay races in the frickin pool last night. Yeah, we acted like a bunch of 11 year olds and it was damn fun damnit.
So yay for really fun drunk weddings and the fun drunk events that follow.

Okay so Joe and I were pretty much the only ones left of the 6 pack last night. Everyone is either living in Charleston or on vacation or just at home. So we decided we needed to drink together. Starting at 6:00 last night, we made these hardcore margaritas and really, by 8:00 I had a serious buzz. Ha! So I kinda made the margaritas wrong everytime. I don't understand ounces and all that jazzz (Yes I just got a college degree) but whateva, it got us drunk. Hey did you know that tequilla tastes like metal? I swear. And so does Joe. So anyway... It was still daylight outside and Joe and I were on the verge of being wasted. So we're just chillin in my apartment and Joe decided to go outside to smoke. He closed the door and like 5 seconds later flings it back open screaming, "You know what?!" I was like "Ummm, what??" Joe was like "You die without your liver, and really I mean, I wouldn't want to live if I didn't have a liver anyway. Think about it. Thiiiiink about iiiit!" WTF Joe? Really. Enter the new Gwen song: This shit is bananas B-A-N-A-N-A-S! Ha.
So Joe and I went downtown around 10:45 because duh, it was Karaoke Tuesday. As soon as we got there he was like "I'm signing us up to sing and there is nothing you can do about it... hahahaa" Thanks Joe. So I guess around midnight Ed was like 'Nic and Joe" Shiiit man. And yes, we sang Toxic. Honestly, Joe put me to shame, I started out strong, but Joe really knew all the words and hit the high notes surprisingly well. Apparently we were hillarious. I mainly just shoook my ass because really, that is all I am good for. You people know I cannot sing, so I just let Joe do most of the work while I used the hydraulics. They liked us. Joe's fun and I have a ghetto ass - good karaoke combo if you ask me. I later impressed Joe with my ability to add "ahhh skeet skeet mothafucka" to any given song. You can do it - swear. Just play some St. Elmo's fire and I will gladly add in the necessary skeet skeet mothafucka. Talent. I know.
Joe and I made these awesome ass little pizzas and the "Mexican family" size box of mac and cheese when we got home. Its pretty impressive that we never burn the house down or just fall on the stove or anything destructive like that. Then I came home, talked to Tucker, found my extremely sexy Hot 98.1 tshirt and passedthefuckout.

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.

Remember how I said I should quit being all sappy and actually write something funny? Well, I found something funny. Be excited.
Friday night was nothing unusual at the start. We went to Overtime and got hammered. $8 Long Island pitchers is really hard to beat. And they have G-spots. The shot, you perverts. They also have ghetto fabulous dance party music. So why would we not go there? So the bartender made friends with us, and allowed us to try out some new beers such as Tire Bite Gross Beer and Ever Grosser Darkish Beer. Thankfully they came in little shot glasses. The latter of the two had a strange coffee like afterbite. How many beers are supposed to taste like coffee really? But it was like a trainwreck -- like, you know its horrible but you keep going back for more. I'd take a sip, shutter, my tongue would try to leave my face, and then I would take another sip. Whatever, it was amusing for Megan at least. And I aim to please. Or something like that.
So then we wanted to dance. I just wanna daaaaaaance. I mostly just wanted to show up the black people dancing like white people and also the questionable group of girls that eerily seemed lesbianish. Lesbians are okay, I just don't really want to be one or be like harassed by one or five. So yeah one of the girls busted out some dance moves. Dance moves like they do in the Nutcracker Ballet that is. Really. She was all twirly and bouncey and flowy and eww. Like really, don't do that. And she had on this goofy black painter's hat. My lip is uncontrollably snarling right now. Weird girl. So needless to say, she wanted Megan and I to dance also. Imagine that. So we did. And I got all overheated because I'm all sick because all I do is go to bars so my immune system divorced me. Told me I wasn't spending enough quality time with it...
Okay so last call came around and no no, we did not go to bed, but rather... Tiger Tails. Everyone always says they want to go there before they graduate... Megan and I have now been 3 times. That's just wrong. Well, they redid the place inside. No more white plastic pool furniture. And now the stage is right smack in the middle of the floor, only about a foot off the ground and there is no run way to get to it and the ceiling was like barely 7 feet. Which makes for really humorous pole twirling.So let me tell you about the lovely ladies who performed for us. Jesus Christ.
The first girl was ugly, but she could at least dance, but she had this strange scarf thing tied around her waist that she sometimes used as a twirly prop. Next was this girl the size of my pinky. Like really, someone give her a cheeseburger and stick that in her garter belt next time. Gah. On top of being stupidly thin, she could not dance. Looked like she was swatting bugs. And her thong? Granny as hell. All wide and not hot. And we were lead to believe that her tatoo was fake. It was like in the middle of her scrawny back instead of down low. Okay and she tried to like be sexy and throw her hair around and put her hands on her knees and shake her ass... she looked like she was doing the hokey pokey. Someone should really help her. Oh and she had on flip flops. Honestly, I didn't think it could get much worse that that. Boy was I wrong. Next up, Miss K-Swiss. So this girl comes hurdling toward the stage and like swings around the pole a few times and immediately begins convulsive ass shaking phase. I was dumbfounded. Not only did she have to get a running start for the pole, she had on K-Swiss. K-SWISS!! A stripper! Come on! wtf. Really. So once I got over that I began to watch her some more. We noted that she was not wearing one but two pairs of underwear. The first outside layer being a hideous white silky droopy granny panty thing, the inside layer being some gross thong. So she danced for this guy, whose mouth never closed and glasses fogged everytime one of these bitches was even near him. Well, she didn't completely take off her nice outer layer. Oh no, she just pulled them down to expose her ass and would then bounce her big ass around. Because of all the bouncing, the now droopy saggy underwear were like flopping around in between her thunder thighs. It was really disgusting. My lip is doing that snarl thing again. Eww. The owner came over the microphone and made some comment about how all ladies could take the stage. He had also told me and Megan that we could get on stage at any time that night if we wanted to. I said "I know." Sorry, I'm cocky and abbrasive. Ha. So well, Megan actually drug me on stage. Yep, check that off the list -- I've been on a stripper stage. I really did have to fight her to stay in my chair - I didn't win. So we get on the gross stage and I'm in these huge heels and I was like "Holy shit! No wonder she had on freakin' K-Swiss!" It's amazing that I didn't bust my ass - they had to have put like vaseline on that stage to grease that baby up. The entire time I was dancing I was bitching out Megan. I was all smiling and acting scandalous all the while going "I can't believe I'm on a fucking stripper stage at TIGER TAILS! I'm going to kick your blonde ass. What the hell are we doing up here!" She just laughed and proceded to grind her ass on me. Gah. Come to find out, we were the hottest and best things to take the stage all night, but then again it was Tiger Tails so I'm not really that flattered or surprised. Damn you Megan for putting me on that stage. I love you. And I did get to touch a real stripper pole. Ha.
So we let the strippers have their stage back. We sort of got bumrushed after we got off stage by some ninjas who thought we were really strippers. I mean, we had all our clothes on and we were still getting dollars thrown at us. That's amusing. So then Miss K-Swiss came back out. This time she had changed outfits into what could have been the most ridiculous piece of material I have ever been exposed to in my entire life thus far. So remember back in the 80s when women wore crazy spandex leotards to exercise or do gymnastics? Well, K-Swissy had one on, however it had holes in all the wrong places, or right places if you were that guy who couldn't shut his big nasty redneck mouth because he was drooling so much. Eww. Okay, it was this red sparkly leotard with a thong in the back and like a gapping hole for her gut. Which by the way, did hang over the skimpy material to cover her downstairs. And she would periodically pull back the pieces that covered those lovely boobs of hers. Ahh. And she had on the K-Swiss kicks. Wow. Our friend Matt, we call him Jiggy, decide to approach the stage. I damn near fell out of my chair, I was laughing so hard. K-Swiss Cheeks got down on all fours, shoved her ass in Jiggy's direction and started bouncing. Well, Jiggy's head bounced in the same rhythm with her jiggy ass. HA-freakin-larious. Her ass was like bounce bounce bounce and Jiggy's head was all bounce bounce bounce the same time. What a sight.So now I've experienced Tiger Tails for the third time. And really, the whole time I was there I was like "Where's Cookie?" Remember, the girl who gave me, Megan and Derrick the lap dance in Charleston? Yeah, Tiger Tails needs to trade Swiss Cheeks for Cookie.
Definitely... so now I've been 3 times. I really don't find it necessary to obtain a 4th, but then again, I have been known to do some crazy shit.