The Napkin Diaries

WaHhhhHhH! I leave for Cancun at 9:30 tomorrow morning! My excitement finally could no longer be contained as of yesterday evening around 8:00 PM when I plugged in my i-pod, jacked up the volume and wiggled my way to my gigantic closest while the "party mix" started to shake the walls. I scooped up, what I think was close to 20 dresses, and threw them onto the bed, hauled my enormous suitcase out and threw it on the bed too, and then watched the cats throw themselves into the suitcase that was now in their prime sleeping location. "Pay attention to me noooooow."
After unsuccessfully zipping myself into dress #1, in my sweetest wife voice possible, I screamed for Husband to come heellllppp! "I just want you to come hang out with me while I pack." Which really meant "I don't want you to do anything else but pay attention to me and zip me in and out of dresses and tell me which shoes match and tell me I look skinny and its okay that I ate chocolate donuts from the vending machine this week because I'm PMS-ish and pay attention to meee!"
He loves me.
So I think it took me like 4 hours to decide on 8 dresses and 5 pairs of shoes. I still don't know what I'm wearing to the stupid airport and God forbid I need pants. I'm not bringing any damn pants! I hate pants! I am bringing my stupidly tiny navy shorts that I plan to wear while hiking through some ridiculous jungle on an excursion that will lead us to a zip line that will spit us out some where in Mexico. Hope the navy shorts are sufficient because that's alls I gots. And I hope the jungle excursion does not turn into one of those scary movies where the vines try to eat your brains and the jungle people shoot tranquilizer darts at your ass and you end up upside down in some tree. Maybe I watch too many movies.
Meh.
Oh! My monokini came in and it is super cute and Husband loves it! Mind you, it hardly covers my ass (ahh, reminds me of the Cononie Coin slot days) but damnit it is cute with it's little sparkly orange pears. It will look even better in Mexican-tanned skin. Mmmm, tan.
So tonight I have to go finish packing my gigantic suitcase. I still have to fit in all my make-up products, hair beautifiers, yummy perfumes and whatever else will account for 28 pounds of luggage. I'm not allowed to go over 50 pounds. If I do... well that just means I get to bring another bag. Ha! I love Cancun already.

Sometimes I don't even know how much I miss my girls until I actually get to spend time with them. Holy crap.
So Emily planned a girls' night for herself, Erin and me. We met in Columbia since that was the half-way point for all of us. We stayed on Gervais Street which was perfect, because we were able to bumble up and down the one little road we were on without getting too lost. And BTW, big thanks to DeAnne who sent me a ton of ideas for what to do while in town. I actually printed her email and carried it around like it was gospel and referred to it often to figure out where the hell the next bar was.
We met around lunch time and headed over to Carolina Ale House... where we appropriately started drinking. And can I just seriously say how much I love these girls?! It hasn't been just the 3 of us since college, which was at least 4 years ago, but when we get together, it's like we never missed a beat. You can't put a price on that.
We ended up buzzed and sleepy, so luckily we were able to stop in the Starbucks that was right across the street from our hotel. Mmmm coffee. Of course, as you might know, coffee makes me sweat like a maniac. But only my feet. I dunno. So I had to sit next to the AC with my shoes off for a good hour before I could even think of getting ready.
We were doing sushi at SakeTumi for dinner. Nom nom nom. I introduced the girls to the new best drink: raspberry vodka and diet. I prefer black cherry vodka, but most bars don't have it; raspberries are the next best thing. My only regret was wearing my stupid Spanx. Yes, I have a Spanx. I'm pretty sure almost every woman I know has one. But my teeny dress required me to hike the Spanx up as high as possible so I kept kinda losing feeling in my thighs. Doh.
We went over to this bar called Blue after dinner. It really is blue. Like, everything. The walls, the bar... the people in the bar. This lady sat down next to me and was trying to look sexy, but little did she know that the blue lights from under the bar were shining directly onto her face which made her look more like an Ax-murdered than a cougar. (Insert squeaky knife/ thriller movie music here) So, you'd think that the slew of diamonds strewn about all of our left hands would encourage men not to talk to us, right? Pshh wrong. This drunk ass comes stumbling over and he's all like "Heeeeey ladies, I'm Brandon." I was like "Hi Brandon. We're married." Brandon was like "Well that's perfect because I've been getting shot down by women all day! You won't do that since you're all taken." WTF. That did not go as planned. So Brandon asks us our names: Nikki. Lee. and Tabitha. Yes, Tabitha. We had a conversation earlier in the day about how that is pretty much the worst name ever, and so when Emily tried to introduce herself as Tabitha, or Tabby for short of course, she literally couldn't speak because she was laughing so hard. I guess Brandon likes girls named Tabitha because he bought us a shot. But his shot was not nearly as delicious as the Pineapple Upside Down Cake shot that we had several minutes prior. He eventually left us alone. But then, there were these 3 idiots behind Emily that were trying to get our attention, so every time I would look at Emily, they would like hang over the bar and flail their arms like they were in some Montel Jordon music video from the '90s. Ugh. Men.
We headed over to Liberty Tap Room after that and got all sweaty on the dance floor. Some dude was kind of dancing with me, and I wanted to be an asshole, so I held up my beer to proudly display my Clemson koozie that encased it. It was a total backfire though because the guy was just like, "What? I don't care. I'm from VA Tech." I'm a moron.
We got our fill of dancing and even learned some new Electric Slide rendition and headed back to our hotel which was conveniently right next door. I came prepared with White Cheddar Cheez-Its and Wheat Thins, so we had plenty of good drunk food to soak up all our vodka, sake, beer and pineapple shots. Mmmm.
We had brunch at Liberty (the same place we shook our asses the night before) before we left to go back home. Emily and I attempted a Bloody Mary but failed miserably. I want to like them so bad! I'm fully prepared to teach myself. I have a bottle of Zing Zang in the pantry at home and I'm picking up some Pepper Vodka after work today. The next free Saturday morning I have will be spent learning how to enjoy Bloody Mary drinks.
I had such a freaking blast with those girls. Ohmygah. I seriously could not ask for two better best friends because holy crap, do we know how to have a good time. Mmmm hugs.

So I never really mean for happy hour to turn into happy "event" but more times than not it always seems to end up that way. Someone really needs to explain to me that 9 hours of drinking really isn't the most genius idea ever...

Dave, Amanda and I met at Wild Wing at 5:00. I was drunk by beer 3 which occurred somewhere around the 6:30 hour. I'm pretty sure that all I did was talk with a lisp and try to embarrass Amanda and sometimes I combined the two for maximum fun. Eventually Miss Lara met up with us and so did Adrian and Jules. Excellent. ::tapping fingers::

So we proceeded to get drunk. Which really was my only goal I set for myself yesterday. I'm a high-striver... speaking of hyphenated things to be, Amanda is a pot-stirrer... always brewin' up some trouble, which always means there will be a good gossip-filled story to come after the stirring. Oh how I love other people's drama.

Some how we ended up at this crap bar called Sapphires. It's neon signed gave me high hopes as it instinctively reminded me of a strip club. No. Wrong. Bust. The only thing good about that place was some shot called Fire on your Tire. Or maybe it was Flat Tire, or maybe it had nothing to do with nonworking car parts. It was green and delicious. Who the fuck cares what it's name was. We had 2. I then pouted until Dave drove us home to get glammed up and go downtown to Mad River. PS: Lara is a make-up artist. Yay for friends with talents. We all bust in up in Mad River sporting an article of clothing from my closet and some form of tacky Nicole jewelry, well Dave refrained from the tacky jewelry... we just shook our asses for 2 hours until they kicked us out. I particularly enjoyed the part where I screamed every single word of Ice Ice Baby. I really don't know why I have friends. I'm really a dork. Or even a dorkasaur. Rawr. I also enjoyed weighing the pros and cons of dancing on one of the 4 foot tables. I really did drown out the conversation around me and make a list in my head about the goods and bads of staying on the floor vs. climbing onto an unsturdy table with about 10 drinks in my system. ::insert R. Kelly's song "my mind's tellin me noooo, but my body...my body's telling me yessssss...":: I refrained from table dancing. You know, it's probably really good that I didn't have friends who encouraged stripping. Something tells me I could have easily gone down quite the wrong path in life since every time I get some alcohol in me I want to immediately become the center of attention by standing on platforms or swinging around poles or using articles of clothing like g-string strings and sunglasses and ties as props. So thanks friends for encouraging a lifestyles that promotes clothing. Appreciate it.

Okay so like I said, we stayed until we got kicked out. Well, so did the guy who literally got kicked out. Like got kicked out so hard he flew out of his shoes and landed face first on the rain-soaked sidewalk unconscious. That was way scary to walk out of a bar all giggly and silly and see someone's shoes on the steps and then see that someone knocked out cold 3 feet in front of his shoes. Dave and Lara both have medical experience so they made sure the dude was breathing and not dead. Amanda and I stood there holding each other as it rained. Again, an appropriate time for th R. Kelly song... Oh! Speaking of R Kelly songs, Dave and I continued to reference the South Park episode where he and Tom Cruise continue to get in the closet. "Now Tom Cruise is in the closet. Now I'm in the closet too."

WTF with the R. Kelly? Seriously.
Okay so, knocked-out guy... I mean really, who pisses off someone so bad that they punch you out of your own shoes? Drama...

So Dave and I got home and sat in the tub because we still swear that we always smell like smoke even though downtown in smoke-free. Whatever. I woke up with my pretty eye make-up smeared across my face over to my ear. So much for the sexy, smoky eyes. I'm now still drunk, haven't even made it to the hangover phase yet. Oh God and we don't have any milk in the house! Dilemma!!. My chest is all shaky. And I'm very curious to learn how Amanda is going to get through a session with her personal trainer in 30 minutes. Good luck. Now someone go make me some drunk breakfast! Mmm, hangover days.

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.

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.

Another trip to Charleston happened this past weekend. Dave, Joe and I took the Celica to the lowcountry. This was a bad idea on many accounts. First, a monsoon hit the upstate and almost drowned us. I made Dave drive which was good and bad. Good because I have crappy night vision, bad because I didn't have control over the brake. I was one big anxiety attack for most of the ride. Blah. We successfully made it, though, and immediately went downtown.
While walking through the parking garage to get to Purple Tree, I managed to wedge my stilletto heel into this teeny tiny crack in the concrete, get my shoe completely stuck and almost fall on my head trying to free myself. Only I could pick the one stupid crack in the damned parking garage to fall into... it took two of us to get the bastard out. I should have known then that I was doomed for the rest of the weekend...
Megan and I started the night off with a Mind Eraser. Followed by another Mind Eraser. God, we are idiots. We had some Vanilla and Diets and one more Mind Eraser... because two just isn't enough. Nothing really exciting happened in Purple Tree. Although I did send Catherine a text to see if she was coming out and it went something like this:
Nicole: are you coming downtown?
Catherine: yeah, where are you?
Nicole: Purple Tree.
Catherine: Dollar?
Maybe she thought I was at the Dollar Tree. I don't know. I never confirmed the confusion...(for those of you who do not know, Catherine is one of Adam's ex-girlfriends, like myself. Her and I, how shall I put this? Shared a few stories and basically became reeeeaaaal good friends and have made many an attempt to actually meet in person, share a hug and take a pleasant little picture for all to see. We still haven't managed to do this, but do not fret, that day will come.) Anyway, City Bar was next on the to-do list. As soon as we busted up in there, the bartender that loves Megan started lining up Apple Bombs. Ooooh weeee, that was nice. So then, a great idea came to Megan and I: we should dance, not on the platform/pole that we usually molest, but rather on the BAR. See?
Jesus help us. We boosted our drunk asses up on the bar... I do mean boosted too -- some dude had to push me to get my ass up there... started shaking our asses and made one hell of a scene. Of course, I almost busted my ass and brought Megan with me. You may not be aware of this, but bars are very slippery when wet. And since drunk girls like us get on these bars and knock over drinks, we are in fact the ones who cause the slipperiness. We danced for a while and then got kinda tired so we decided to get down... most ungraceful dismount ever. We just plopped down and scooted off the edged mid-song. Real classy. I had looked down to see if Dave was watching while I was dancing, but I found him looking around instead. I got all whiney and asked why he didn't want to watch me. He told me that he was watching me, but then noticed the other 30 guys watching me and decided to watch them instead, one particular little Chinese man he said was especially gawking, so if necessary he could kick some moron's ass. I slurred something about him being a sweetheart and such a good boyfriend and how I just love the hell out of him. Yay for Dave.
We went home or got kicked out of the bar or something. Either way, I was a waste case. Had I known the hangover that was to come Saturday morning, I would have never drank a sip Friday night. Curse you, Mind Erasers. How I hate you. So needless to say, I laid in bed until 7 pm Saturday. Dave brought me Sonic, but I couldn't eat, because chewing was too much work. Dave offerred to carry me to the bathroom to puke, but I couldn't move enough to get him to carry me. I was so miserable. We opted to be low key Saturday night so we just went over to Richard's house, one of Dave's friends. I didn't drink a drop of alcohol but managed to laugh my ass off pretty much the entire night. Those guys have some ridiculously HA-larious stories to share. At one point, we went to see something on the computer in Richard's little office area. Well, unknownst to us, we also stumbled upon Booh-Bahs. Yes, Booh-Bahs. For those of you unfortunate enough to have never experienced a Booh-Bah, let me bring you up to speed -- they are these little furry creatures, similar to Tellatubbies, that are fat, covered with forehead warts, and have the creepiest buldging eyes any stuffed animal has ever possessed. They also sing and dance for you. They say "booooooo baaaaahhhhh," pause momentarily, and then play this catchy little tune and kinda rotate poking out their asses and bellies. We put two of the demented monsters face-to-face and forced them to dance together. I have to say that I have never been so amused by a children's toy as I was that night. We repeated this act many more times. That is, until we found the doll manufactured by Satan himself. I mean, we're talking Exorcist shit here. Okay, you know how you used to butcher your sister's Barbie doll's hair when you were little? Well, that's the hair that this doll had. It also had only one winky eye that resembled more of a lazy eye than a wink, really. And lastly, the little son of a bitch would cackle and stick it's horridly long tongue out at you when you squeezed its stomach. Ewwww, creepy. What kid in it's right mind would want to play with that shit?! Richard said he found the bastard at some little backwoods antique-type shop up in the mountains of North Carolina... good to know that is exactly where Dave is from. Yay, my boyfriend's hometown is also the hometown of the little shop of horrors. Seriously, I would be scared to sleep at night with that thing in the house... you'd wake up to find that little shit staring at you with a knife in it's hand doing it's demonic little cackle with its ugly lazy winky eye and too long pointy tongue. Ugh. So our Saturday night consisted of incriminating stories, Booh-Bahs and Satan.
So the trip to Charleston wasnt't the best one, given the worst hangover ever, but it was good and I had fun. And I also now want a Booh-Bah. No more Mind Erasers, though. Ever. Gah.

Michael and Emily met us there -- Yay! I hadn't seen Emily in so long, so it was really nice to see her. We all just sat in a booth and made fun of people all night. I don't know if someone made the decision that all the bad dancers in Charleston should go to Purple Tree that night, but holy hell, every person on that dance floor was a moron. There was one guy just flailing around with no purpose at all, another guy that was just stepping from side to side but not even with the beat and then there were these two really large girls with too little clothing and too much energy bumbling about the dance floor.
I think because of this ridiculousness, Dave felt compelled to buy Mind Erasers. Three 6 ways. Jesus.Christ. So we paired up for the drinks, because they didn't make them into shots -- they were just 3 gigantic glasses of disaster waiting to happen. Dave and I took one glass, Emily and Michael took another... leaving Joe and Adrian the last one to share. They kinda looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders, mumbled something about not being gay and just drank it. And really, they weren't kidding when they named it a Mind Eraser. They never kid about that drink. We all got waaaaasted.
We had to make a stop at McDonald's for some chicken nuggets on the way home. And Joe had to get out and pee in the McDonald's bushes. He had decided that he would crouch down and start saying "here kitty kitty" if for some reason cops saw him in the bushes... nevermind the fact he was completely drunk off his ass. Good in theory, I suppose. Luckily there were no cops. Just chicken nuggets. So we ate all those and then passed out.
We all woke up pretty hung over Saturday. Sonic was the cure. And watching Eurotrip. We literally sat on our asses until 7:00 pm that night when we went out for the night. And this time, I had Megan with me! Woo hoo!! We ate at Wild Wings and then ran over to Henry's to begin the drinking. Amaretto Sours were apparently my choice of drug for the evening because I had about 9 of them I think. On top of some Jager Bombs and other funness. Okay, well Dave got drunk in a hurry and was using me as a support beam before we ever left Henry's. I was getting a nice buzz by this time and started getting silly. Megan kept slamming her head into these bricks of doom that were sticking out of the wall behind her. So we decided it was time to change bars. We went to 213.
Well, I think I was drunk there because Megan was wearing this scarf thing that I could not for the life of me remember the name. I looked at it, back and her and then back at the scarf-like object. I was like, "what is this called again? A creme brulle?" She about fell out of her chair. Unknownst to me... the dame scarf is called a Pashmina. Say it with me. Pash-mi-na. Not creme brulle. Who knew? They were playing awesome 80s music so we all felt extremely compelled to sing along. While I cannot remember exactly what song we were singing, it must have been something very intense about love or something because otherwise, we would not look quite so ridiculous. Well maybe... We had some shots, bumbled around, drank some more, took about 86 pictures and then decided it was that time. The best time of the night: City Bar time.
The minute we made it to the bar, the bartender was lining up shots for us. Megan is good friends with the owner and the bartender so we were priority there. Yay for Megan. Apple Bombs for all. Mmmm, heaven. So Megan and I started shaking our asses. Then we had to go back for more drinks. This time it was a Beam and Coke for me, a raspberry martini for Meg, and a double Jager Bomb (that had not enough bomb whatsoever). Mr. Bartender only charged us $12 for all of that! Hell.Yes. This called for a celebration -- on the platform with the pole. It's tradition. Megan and I cannot go to City Bar without completely making a scene on this pole. Ah, how I Iove shaking my ass. So I don't really know what caused it, but Megan decided that using her belt for a prop was the best idea of the night. It was quite amusing. I think I have a picture with ever person using the belt in a different way. You'll need to check out my pictures for the full effect. We closed down City Bar and went home. It was such a bad ass night. Way fun.
Well, when we got home, Dave and I got into "serious talk" mode. And we ended up sitting on the bathroom floor for almost 2 hours. When we finally came out and decided to go to bed, we realized that Joe was not in his designated spot on the couch. We freaked out and thought he left. So Dave went to the jeep to get a flashlight and started searching the jeep, the truck bed, the bushes and the backyard. We couldn't find Joe anywhere! So we started searching every room in the house. We found him on the floor next to so unpacked boxes with our comforter... passed out. Jackass. Had me scared as hell. I thought he ran away. Gah, Joe. So we fell asleep.
Woke up hung over again. Ugh. This time we went and ate the hell out of some crazy good Italian food. Mmmm. We finally left Charleston. We almost had to stop to steal the sign that said Speed Hump Steve's Step Mom. That was funny. We stopped at my house in Simpsonville for some real food and then came back to Clemson to pass out again. Hell of a good weekend. I think we all needed it. And the six-pack got to reunite -- always a good time. I love you guys!

So, I am officially the new girl at Esso. Wooo Hooo! I am way excited about this job. Candle actually had been hounding my ass about applying for a good month or so and I finally gave in and tried it out. My first day was Monday. It went really well. Minus the smart ass kitchen guys who refuse to call me Nicole and refer to me only as Damn New Girl. But I give them hell back, so they like me. They actually have said they think I am quiet. Ha! I told them to give me a week. They'll see. So today I actually ran around on the floor all by myself. Yay. I have a job. And I managed to get through my first real day with only one screw up. So thank you, Candle, for making me get a job. Heart you.

In other drunk news: last night was karaoke with Ed Miller. Duh. Joe and I drank Christmas (beam and coke, for those of you who have not been keeping up with the blogs). So Candle was all hellbent on singing. I really didnt want to, but she was like "get fucked up and then you will!" so I did. and we did. "Nic and Company" (me, Candle, Joe and Jayson) sang Shot Through the Heart. I was waaaasted. And I sorta took over the performance. Imagine that. I was rockin' my tacky shades and using the mic cord as a dance prop. I also incorporated a few well-placed CHAs into the song. For my fantastic efforts with the cha, Ed Miller rewarded me with free shit. I got to pick from a pile of junk, and of course I went for the biggest, gawdiest, most ridiculous thing I could find: a big ass golf ball with the Miller High Life Light logo plastered across it. Cuuuute. Tacky as shit. Love it. I'm going to display it in the apartment, along with the road sign that I stole this weekend in Charleston that reads Speed Hump. Yesss. Cha! (I will get to the Charleston story momentarily) So, yeah here is a lovely picture of us posing with our ball. Ha. Everyone wanted to touch my ball. I was like no, bitches, it's my ball... so I was drunk. And then I got to take it to Beezer's. Which was amusing. Yay for balls. Ha.

So okay, also in drunker news: I drove to Charleston Saturday to get waaaasted with Megan and Emily. We went to City Bar and did the normal round of 8000 shots and then grinded with the pole. I pretended to dance on it... in all actuality, the pole was the only thing keeping me standing. We left City Bar and ran over to 213. Lucky for us, I had aquired a VIP pass which allowed all of us to weissel in without paying or waiting. Sweet. However, it was way packed out, so we left and went to Wild Wings. Took even more shots. And eventually got kicked out at closing time. Fuuuun. We ate the hell out of the hot dogs that we bought at 2:00 and then we took Emily back so she could pass out and avoid the madness that was to come. The madness came in the form of Thee Southern Belle; the fully nude, trashy ass titty bar in Charleston. They actually have redecorated and now have couches everywhere -- like it looks like theater seating in there. Ridiculous. Also ridiculous that I know they have redecorated. Me, Megan and Andrew sat there for like 4 hours in amazement of how well these girls could shimmy up and down a freakin stripper pole. Around 5:00 am, all the girls pranced out and we got to pick our favorite to go get a private dance from if we wanted to. Our girl Cookie was there! Yesss. (If you recall, over Spring Break, we liked the girl in the girlscout costume, and I appropriately named her Cookie and she had since become our favorite stripper.) So we go in the back room, whereupon she absolutely molested me and Megan. Like, Megan actually held my hand for a second because she was so freaked out. Really funny. Cookie was all swingin her hair on us, breathing in our ears, purring, smacking her ass, biting us, buzzing in our crotches... yes, buzzing. And it is really strange. And I'm not sure exactally how I feel about that still. The girl is nuts. After she was done with her little show, Megan said my name for some reason and Cookie was like, "Nicole?! That's my name, too!" I was like, "I knew I liked her for a reason." So yay, I have the same name as Cookie. Ha. There is an accompliment. What a night. We even got huge t-shirts out of it.. with half naked chicks on the back. Woot.

So today we have learned that it is good to say yay for new jobs, big balls, and stippers.

The End.

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.

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!

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.

This blog is basically for Jayson, and also for Joe too since I retold the entire evening to him when I can stumbling into his apartment at 2:00 in the morning. So Tuesday night was absolutely insanely funny. We went to crazy karaoke (duh) where the first act that we paid attention to was the deaf guy. Really. A deaf guy who sings karaoke. Which I mean, its honorable - you gotta give him credit for trying. But I think one try is enough. As Joe said it, "once i heard a cat get run over and it sounded better than that." I don't really think he did hear a cat get run over, but you could imagine... and I don't mean to be mean, I really don't - I give the guy credit for trying, but I really wish he would take up marathon running, for instance. He'd be good at that...
so then Joe had to leave us. Way sad, because he is becoming my new hip ornament and I have a hard time functioning without him next to me. So it was just me and Jayson. Which really seriously was the funniest night in like all of karaoke history. First, we started doing the sketchy dance. The point your finger, thrust your hips, lick your lips, and stare too long at one person dance. We then resorted to the horrible Elaine (from Seinfeld) dance. Holy shit that was funny shit. Like imagine a normal rap bass beat, and then bend your knees, thrash about and snap on separate sporadic occasions while adding weird pelvic thrusts in awkward directions with no sensible rhythm while remembering to not stay in any kind of sync with the original beat given to you. Believe me, you will laugh, and everyone will laugh at you. And what is sad is that I know of at least two people who dance in this fashion. God help them.
After being sketchy dancers (hold me closer tiny daaaancer), Jayson and I shimmied our way to the front of the bar so as to catch a "better" view of the stage. If by better, you mean funky nacho smelling area with creepy staring guy and glittery shirt hobag. Mmmm, I love the "better" view already. So yeah, me and Jayson were minding our own business making fun of everyone else in the bar, when all of a sudden Jayson gets this revolting look on his face and proceeds to flare his nostrels, furrow his brow, curl his lip and scream "what the fuck?!! do you smell that?! what is that?!" I almost fell out of my chair laughing. I was like "Dude, what the hell is wrong with you?" He then morphed into psycho sniffer and sniffed everything within a 10 foot radius... including me. So I sniffed back.... whatever, so we thought it was nasty glitter hobag girl that smelled like funky nachos. But when she came closer, we realized it was not her but rather, disgustingly obese sweaty arms-cut-off-shirt guy. Like, so sweaty he had the sweat marks from his neck to his large belly area as well as the sweaty back look. Yeah, I threw up a little in my mouth. I mean, I've heard of people who sweat out beer, but to sweat out nachos?! Come on?! Then that song that is like 'Just like Roonnnnnie said/be my little baby.../ take me home tonight,/ I don't want to let you go til I see the light" came on. And for whatever reason, it was so freakin funny. I mean think about it, sweaty nacho guy who is now dancing with glittery slutface girl (who was on the verge of doing the sketchy Elaine dance) with "take me home tonight" blaring in the background with some offkey doofus singing, makes for a really funny scenario. And then this weird guy in the yellow shirt kept staring at me. And like, not even a flirty smiley stare, just a blank creepy ewwww stare. I was like "Really, wtf?" So Jayson backed up and watched the dude walk by me. I kinda yelped and did the grunt I do and snarled a little. Who stares with no expression? Gross. So yeah, funny chain of events... If you don't think so, well then you suck. And you shouldn't read my blog anymore. Because damit, that shit is funny.
So after that, Jayson and I really couldn't take anymore. So we left. We went to Esso because we wanted to find Candle and get "Night at the Roxybury" on her ass -- you know, slam her back and forth between the two of us and bob our heads frantically to the side. Yeah, but when we go to Esso, no one was there except for the big scary bouncer man who was standing inside with his arms crossed behind the bar just shaking his head at us. We quickly left. So then creepy Manson stalker girl called Jayson for the 59th time and was like "I left you 17 messages telling you I was at Loose Change, gah, why aren't you here too?" So Jayson was like "Gah I swear she is the spawn of Jeffrey Dommer... well wait, I don't know why I said him instead of like Charles Manson since her last name is kind of Manson..." So we also decided Loose Change was a good idea because Beezers is next door to it. So we get in there, and like noshit, within 7 seconds so weird bug-eyed dude is like petting me, asking me about my lifestory and really I think he wanted to be in my skin he was standing so close to me. I kept giving Jayson the save me look, all he did in return was the sketchy bar guy act where he'd squint his eyes and lick his lips and point. Thanks Jayson. So yeah... we left and got some damn Beezers and god it was so good. With olives right, Jayson? Or wait, was that oil and vinegar? Ha. Moron.
So by 2:15ish I busted up in Joe's apartment, all crackin up, cussing out Mother Nature for raining on my drunkass and I proceeded to give him an instant replay of the night. I almost choked on Beezers like 9 times in the process of the storytelling time.
So thank you, Jayson, for entertaining the hell out of my ass. And I think we should do nachos with Ronnie again real soon...



and on a completely different side note:
My brother graduated from Hillcrest High School June 1st, 2005 with badass honors. I don't know how to spell exemplary so I chose to say badass instead. So congrats, bro -- you kick ass. And I love you and I cannot wait for you to be at Clemson with me in August!

I got to pretend I was famous Friday night. Somehow Michael was able to get a limo for us to take to Freedom Weekend. Do you know how cool I felt? It's rare for me to actually feel cool, and I so did Friday night. Me, Joe, Emily and Michael were all excited waiting for the limo to come get us from the apartment. I made some comment about how I was going to crack up if it was white with like gold hundred spokes or some shit -- low and behold, the bitch was white. no crazy rims though. Still made me laugh. Our limo driver was this crazy Brooklyn guy. Accent included. So we piled in the thing and got absolutely wasted. I finished an entire bottle of red wine, Emily had champagne, the boys had hard liquor - very very bad ass. On the way there, I would roll down the window just far enough for people to see my big tacky sunglasses. Then I would wave and blow kisses like I was some famous chick. Ha. We had to pick up Zach and I made Joe get out and go take a picture of me sticking my tacky head out of the window. Oh, I thought I was so cool. So yeah. We got the limo driver to park and let us keep drinking once we got to Freedom. But the only problem was that Joe and I really really had to pee. We had no idea where the potties were so we just started walking in the direction we were pointed in. Well like seriously, there were no bathrooms anywhere. And we couldn't hold it much longer... so we found this baseball field that had bathrooms -- and the bitches were locked!! So instead of peeing in the bathrooms we just had to pee next to them. At 6:30 in the afternoon... in broad daylight. Oh, the nonsense Joe Long and I get into. Too funny. So then I continued to roll down my window and wave to people once back in the limo -- I really confused a few bystanders. Everyone wanted me to be like 'Hey, I'm Katie Holmes. Want an autograph?" but my guess is that is somehow illegal. So I opted to throw myself back in my glass of wine and laugh about everything.
Finally we got kicked out of the limo so we were forced to go to the concert. Honestly, the limo was way more fun than actual Freedom Weekend. But I did get to see Matt Mullinax and hang out -- which was very cool. I'm always so glad to see Matt.
The limo we took back to Clemson was even cooler than the limo we took there -- this one was a black stretch Navigator. Pimp as hell. And we had Senn with us this time around. Crazy lights in the ceiling, bombass stereo system and even more huge than the first. We were so silly drunk and all I wanted to do was dance, but I ended up doing this goofy knee-knockin, pigeon-toeing, arm-flailing move that I've never done before but apparently thought looked really cool since I could see my reflection in the windows and the mirrors around the bottom. This in fact was not a cool move and I have asked Joe to make sure I never repeat that dance again. I also kept wanting to crawl around from the front to the back of the limo, so while I would attempt to move around, I'd be like "I'm sorry if you can see my downstairs," because I had on my teeny jean skirt that is basically worthless... unless my goal is to show my downstairs. So everyone probably got to see my underwear, but hey, at least I had them on... Ha... sorry if you saw my downstairs... that phrase alone cracks me up. So yeah, the limo stuff was definitely cool. First time I'd ever been in one, or two in one day for that matter. So I lost my limo V-card and I have to admit, it was worth it.

Last night, Megan and I went to Greenville to hang out with Blair and Matt (or Guff as we like to call him). Ed does karaoke at Wild Wings on Wednesdays so we figured we play the role of true groupies and go see him there. Before we went downtown, we met the boys at El Jalisco. Megan however could not remember the friggin name (and still can't for that matter) and would simply call it Ell all night. Big Blair (Blair's dad) has some magical company credit card and so we got to get a lot of beer and a couple good rounds of shots for free. And free makes everything taste better. Needless to say however, we were all pretty tipsy by about 10:00 when we left to go DT.
We went straight to Wild Wings. Enter: extremely drunk phase. Wild Wings gives free redbull on Wednesday! There IS a God! And booooy did we get shit-tay! Woot Woot. So yeah, we take our respective seats at the very front table with the strange girl from Tuesday night who was anti-bra with anger management issues, though she was actually a really sweet thing. Even if she did have spikes around her neck... So yeah, she decided to sing, and she is actually really good. She got on the table because she thinks she is Avril Lavigne and proceed to molest me via microphone. Really. Like sang all to me, grabbed my chin, batted her eyes. Megan kinda grunted and grabbed me. Thanks. It was sort of strange. So in honor of my lesbianish come-on, we took about 5 jager bombs. I suppose that because the bomb was free, they chose to be stingy with it... yeah so basically there was not so much bomb. And whoa that jager must have been mad at me for neglecting it lately because he kicked my hydraulic ass last night. Lord. So of course I lose all inhibitions and decided that I too should dance on tables. So I busted a move on a table top, Megan joined me and we put on a show; well, until the bouncer came in and shook his head at us and made us get back on ground level. Oops.
So as we were cracking up about our little performance, Avril and her two sidekicks come over and, Ishityounot, ask to touch my boobs! wtf? They told me that they just thought they were really pretty. I said that they were real, not fake, and they were like, we know, we could tell and that is why we wanted to touch them. I said "Ummm, thanks, but no sorry, you can't." So Megan and Blair grabbed them instead. Thanks guys. I love being molested. Ha. Ed was also excited about my boobs Wednesday night. Apparently they were a hit... I dunno. It's not technically my fault...
We decided we wanted to go to Platinum pretty soon but first we wanted to sit outside and get some fresh air. No big deal right? Well it wouldn't have been if all the chairs weren't freakin' chained together! If I pulled on one, the person next to me or across from me couldn't squeeze in. So we played musical chairs for about 5 minutes before we all found a seat that we could sit on without having our circulation cut off from being wedged in between the table and chair. I think we had to sit at 3 different tables between the 4 of us. Awesome. We're idiots.
So then we went to Platinum. Megan had to drive us because all those jagers with not so much bomb kind of kicked the rest of our asses. We busted up in there with our free passes and ran straight for the front of the stage. I'd like to take this moment to thank Platinum Plus for the wheely chairs. They make life, especially life in the strip club, a lot more fun. At some point all four of us took our turns giving the nice naked stripper girls some dollas. The one I chose told me I was pretty. That's sweet. I swear they are all bi in there. Eh, whatever, that's why I go with boys-- they can save me if necessary. Well if you can believe it, Megan and I ended up giving Matt and Blair their own little lap dances That is so unlike us... I stopped because I didn't really want to get kicked out of the nudey bar for taking away from the strippers. I have been yelled at for doing that before. True story. They don't want you stealing the naked girls' thunder. Especially when their thunder comes in the form of nakedness. Blair and Matt were so belligerant that they really could not see straight. Really. Blair told me. And that's bad news. So poor Megan, the one who doesn't know squat about Greenville is the one driving our drunk asses back to Simpsonville. (There was no way in hell we were driving back to Clemson). We all passed out... apparently... well we assumed that's what happened since we woke up and didn't remember falling asleep. And damnit was I hung over Thursday. Like whoa.
It was worth ever minute of that hang over too. That is the most fun I have had in a really long time. So a big thanks to Megan, Matt and especially Blair for Wild Wild Wings Wednesday fun. Love you people.

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.