The Napkin Diaries

So I wanted one of those fancy Linked-In profiles that all the other cool kids are getting... so uhh, I got one. I set up a little goofy profile and found some people I know and voila, now I am part of the Corporate Facebook, if you will.

While completing my little profile [that doesn't say jack shit because I don't know how to "sum up" a damn thing mostly because I'm the wordiest motherfucker on the planet... case in point], I noticed that I could add my screen name. "Why of course, I want everyone I've met in the working world to be able to IM me at any given moment!"

::Shaking head:: Me. I'm a tard.

So I totally add my screen name. And then a little twitch happened in my face because I remember something mildly important about my profile.

I made it while I was in college.

And do you recall what I did while in college?

I shook my ass. Furiously. All over town. I even had DJs stop the music to announce just how furiously I shook that ass of mine.

So, obviously, I did what any smart college kid does... I made an awesome AIM profile. That says this and only this:

“I have hydraulics in my ass”

And now I don’t know how to take it off because I do not even know how to do AIM crap anymore because (1) I'm not in college anymore, (2) Husband is a computer whiz kid and hooked up this thing called Pigin that like combined a bunch of shit, and (3) I don't know. I just don't effing know.

Looks like I'll have hydraulics in.my.ass. for the rest of.my.life.

So uhh yeah, I'll let you know what happens when a co-worker asks me just what I meant by that whole "ass hydraulics" thing in my profile.

::Smacks forehead::

I was driving somewhere and decided to bust out one of my old ass untitled CDs from the back of the case yesterday, and La La happened to be one of the songs on the random ass CD. there is always one night in particular that i think of when i hear that song, and that would be the night we were in city bar - i know that dave, joe and megan were with me. and i think emily and michael were there too. either way, the girls went up to the front stage and this song came on. i threw one of my legs up on the railing and grinded all over the place, all swinging my hair around and being as drunk and sexy as possible. well, my sexiness was supposed to be wowing dave, instead, i ended up catching the lesbian's eye. she told me i was the best dancer in the bar and that i was really pretty. megan saved me. needless to say, i still have no idea what dave's reaction was that night because i was too busy being semi-molested by the little lesbian lady...

so yeah, everytime i hear this song, i think of that night. and that's funny.

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!

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'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!!"

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.

It was party-your-hydraulic-ass-off weekend in Charleston. And let me just note that indeed, my hydraulics, along with hips, thighs, and arms are all in pain from the madness that was the Chucktown Shindig.
Emily and I drove down Friday night and we were ready to get the party started around 11:00. It was me, Emily, Michael, Matt Pat, Sarah, David, Adrian, Stephanie, Dan, Rob, Mark and of course my Megan and her friends Andrew and Chris. We went to the Blind Tiger first, but I was itchin' to shake my ass, so I rounded up most of the group and forced them to go to City Bar. Oh it was worth it. Megan of course bought us 8000 shots and David even did a round or 27 for us. Me, Megan and Stephanie put on a show on the pole; however, we were rudely interrupted by these crazy seizure-like Chinese people. Gah. Wait your turn. Like really, they convulsed for 6 minutes straight. I was like WTF and just took more shots.
A little later into the night, Mark and I finally introduced ourselves for real to each other. Let me tell you, this kid can friggin' dance. Holyshit. He is amazing. And to find a guy that can actually show me up, let alone keep up with me, is way hot. So yeah, Mark and I decided we needed to host a little show around the pole. We did these badass moves that actually looked kind of choreographed. It was the hottness. Then of course, the crazy Chinese couple had to get up there and like have a dance off with us... what is this? You Got Served?... They were just jealous of mine and Mark's sweet moves.
We finally had to remove our hydraulic drunk asses from the bar and go the hell home. We only had one vehicle for 7 of us. Can I now thank Adrian for being super awesome and for driving a super massive Titan truck? Yeah, thank you. We put Steffles (as Mark likes to call Miss Stephanie) in the front seat so she could semi-sober her cute little ass up. It took us like 32 hours to get out of the parking garage. For serious. Well not really, but at least 32 minutes.... so all the while, Stephanie decided she needed the vent to blow directly on her face with minimal space between her and the AC. Well, this worked out well, until we had to use the break and she smacked her entire face into the grill of the AC vent. Then she made the pouty face and accompanied it with the 'awwww" scrunched her nose, rubbed her forehead and cheek and took it like a champ as we all made ridiculous amounts of fun of her. Loveyougirl!
David, Adrian and I realized we still wanted to drink, everyone else went to bed and I went back to their apartment. Yeah, we had good intentions of continuing the binge, however we got sucked into American Dad, Family Guy, Sealab 2021, and Venture Brothers and finally gave up around 4:00. Thank you [adultswim] for entertaining my nocturnal ass time and time again. Oh and Dave, quit using all your crazy spy techniques to look at this entry and read my blog like all the other normal kids, gah. Haha.
Everyone was a waste of space on Saturday. It was a hellova monsoon too. Which was beneficial -- allowed for minimal movement and a good excuse to only change positions on the couch when a given body part began to tingle. We came to life around 6:00ish. We ate at Southend Brewery and were at Purple Tree Ultra Lounge by 9:30. Enter the drunken madness. It started slow, we were the first alcoholics in the bar. So we immediately started doing round after round after round of shots. Some include, but are not limited to: red headed slut, royal flush, mind eraser, perfect pussy, soco kamakazie and i cannot remember the rest because I got waaaaasted. So yeah, at first we were semi-bored, but fret not that all changed quickly. We were so damn entertained, it was stupid. Purple Tree has these screens on the walls that project these crazy patterns that resmeble somethink like the following: (a) sand and oil, (b) mercury, (c) liquid hot magma, (d) zinc and food coloring. A consensus was never made. But theses crazy things changed colors and only repeated small amounts of the pattern... needless to say, we didn't need drugs to enjoy the goodness that was the spinny light designs of wonder on the walls of the ultra cool ultra lounge. And there were blinky lights on the ceilng and color changing panals on the walls. My preferred color of the evening was the underappreciated sea-foam green.
Then it was dance time. Steffles, Millie, Mr. Mark Gramling, and myself found our crazy asses in the middle of the dance-a-thon and went completely buckwild on the floor. Though this time the floor was saturated in filthy spilt beer and liquor and other unknown substances which made for difficulty in manuevering in the insane pink heels. Being the pro I am however, I conquered the filth and danced my ass off. Until the crazy techo music entered. Do you know how hard it is to dance to techno when (a) you do not have glow sticks, and (b) the bass sporadically leaves the song? Everyone would just kind of stand there and bumble around until somewhat of a knock would come back. Stephanie and Emily gave up and returned to their tasty drinks. Mark and I however refused to stop. He came up with a really funny, yet useful idea: dance to the song in your head. He did. I did. And apparently we picked the same song because we were the only two people really dancing and we were actually pretty in sync given the fact there there was no freakin rhythm to the song at all. Yeah, we rock out to the max.
Bar tab: $415.00. Holymotherfreakinhell.
None of us wanted to stop drinking, so we all went back to Sarah's. Way fun. All the Takenoters/Tiger Roarers sang for us, everyone took turns on the bongos, Emily and Michael passed out on each other on the couch (yes, Emily's mouth was hanging wide open), and we were too lazy to play circle of death, so instead we just played never-have-i-ever. That was my genius idea. We finally peaced out around 4:00. Damn, we know how to have a good time. Emily and I treked home around 5:30 Sunday afternoon. Had a little roadrage, well a lot, but we made it. And it was damn fun.
So way super massive thanks to Emily, Megan, Michael, Mark, Matt, Stephanie, Dave, Adrian, Sarah, Dan, and Rob. I had such a blast. And I am so so happy and excited that I got to better my friendships with all of you. (And way glad I had someone to dance with my crazy ass the whole time... Mark...). We know how to do it right. Love you guys! Looking forward to doing it all again for July 4th!

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.