I hate Alabama.
Every time I go there something horrible happens. The first time I went to a game at University of Alabama I dented my car, got strep throat, and got dumped by a guy who once argued with me that Africa was a country. The second time I went with my brother who hung out with some of his fraternity brothers but when the chapter at Alabama found out my brother's chapter let in a black guy they made it clear they weren't invited back and said the n-word like 400 times including my favorite racist statement of the month on their African American running back, "Man, that (insert racial slur) runs like there was a bucket of fried chicken and watermelon in the end zone!" What was this,1954? Obviously not, because then their team would actually win a championship instead of choking. And this time I went to UA for a game was equally as bad since I SAW THE SMALLEST PENIS OF MY LIFE.
Let me back up. I was completely wasted and having a blast at some bar with my friends and talking to these three guys. Every guy I would bring to the table I was at and I would make out with them and tell them I am not interested in the other guys so I could score some drinks. One girl noticed this and called me out. And I just told her I was trying to see which one I should hook up with. She said the third one and I agreed. Let's call this guy, Little John Thomas. He wasn't as tall as I usually liked but I didn't care because he seemed nice. We walked back to his place from the bar and fooled around and that is when I saw it: The smallest penis I have ever laid my whorish eyes on. I couldn't believe it. Even in my state of complete intoxication I was in utter shock. I, therefore, made it a point to remember it's exact size. In my creative, yet secretive way I discovered the size of it was about 3.4 inches...erect. Just call me the perverted Sherlock Holmes. I remember my mouth dropped open and I had to make sure that was as big as it got and that was definitely it. So naturally I did what any self-respecting southern lady would do - I ran away. I ran like a bitch. I said I had to go to the bathroom then ran out the back door. It started to rain and I tripped and hurt myself I was in such a hurry. I then proceeded to text everyone I had ever met and told them what happened. I probably shouldn't have been driving anywhere, especially just to get away from some genitals, but I once left a bar with three frat guys and a former cast member from the Real World and didn't think anything bad would happen...bad decisions are my thing. I have no idea how I made it home.
First off, I am just going to say that I think I have seen a wide variety of the male member for my age. NOTE: I do not prefer the term "slut" but instead "penis enthusiast." And I have never not hooked up with someone because it was too small. I have never really cared, especially if I liked the guy. But this was just unreasonable. It looked like the hors d'ourves served at the tailgate. The whole thing could fit in the palm of my hand. So this got me to thinking in my warped mind about penis envy and how important size really is. I just read on Men's Health that the average penis size of the human male is 5.9 to 6.1 inches (this amazingly is including all those guys in China). This made me feel better. But I was wondering how much other women really care. So I surveyed some friends of mine and asked how they felt about small penises. I have given them nicknames except for Joy because she never does anything bad enough to deserve one.
Pigtails - "I don't care as long as they know how to fucking work it...And they smack my ass."
Tits Magee - " I don't know. I usually date black guys."
Goldilocks - "If they don't have a big penis I consider them less of a man. I have refused to hook up with guys for that before. I don't care if it's mean" *
White Trash Tasha - "If it is under six inches I'd rather use a vibrator and read a magazine."
Cuntry Courtesan - "No. Just...no."
The Strumpet - "How much money does he make?"
McSlutty - "There are too many penises in the world to waste time on a small dick."
Token Gay Guy - "As long as you can feel it."
Hot Mess - "I don't care. I would do it. But I am a slut."
Irish - "If I really like the guy it doesn't matter. But 3 inches? Really?"
Butter - "How drunk am I in this scenario?"
Joy - "Something like that doesn't matter as long as the two of you love each other. You can be happy with him completely and have a truly beautiful relationship no matter what his God-given anatomy is." (I don't know why she hangs out with us.)
*This is also a woman who once refused to hook up with a guy because she found out he voted for Bush in the 2004 election.
For the most part I think that we women don't mind so much because unlike men, we generally DO care more about a guy's personality than his physical features. Even his most important physical feature. As for me, I still don't really care but I realize I now have some limits when it comes to randoms. And I have one more reason to hate Alabama.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Grossest Story Yet...
This one is SO horrible, even for me. So brace yourself...
I just got in this morning and I had to email this immediately it was so...story worthy, I guess. Last night I went with some friends to none other than Sassy Ann's. I was on on a budget due to my lack of employment. But good thing Sassy's is cheap and and all my friends are very giving drunks. Naturally, this evening ends in everyone being wasted and I was talking to a guy.
This guy was a thin, somewhat tall with boyish looks that made him look like he was 12. The most attractive thing about him was that I was drunk. I left him at the bar but he lived in our apartment building. We get back and everyone passes out except for me and I went to the guy's apartment to hang out and drink some more. It was only 3AM and I wasn't that tired. We started making out on the couch and I felt like I forgot something. He asked if I wanted to make out in his room so I said okay but I wasn't going to sleep with him. Hey, even I have morals sometimes. So we kept making out and it got a little bit more intense and there was some PG-13 material but I still knew I was forgetting something and it was driving me crazy. Since I didn't want to sleep with him, I guess, he said he really wanted to go down on me. Never one to argue with getting something for nothing I obliged. So he gave me oral sex for a while. Whenever he stopped he came up to kiss me and I looked at his face and I immediately remembered what I had forgot in my drunken stupor:
I was on my period.
FML.
I just got in this morning and I had to email this immediately it was so...story worthy, I guess. Last night I went with some friends to none other than Sassy Ann's. I was on on a budget due to my lack of employment. But good thing Sassy's is cheap and and all my friends are very giving drunks. Naturally, this evening ends in everyone being wasted and I was talking to a guy.
This guy was a thin, somewhat tall with boyish looks that made him look like he was 12. The most attractive thing about him was that I was drunk. I left him at the bar but he lived in our apartment building. We get back and everyone passes out except for me and I went to the guy's apartment to hang out and drink some more. It was only 3AM and I wasn't that tired. We started making out on the couch and I felt like I forgot something. He asked if I wanted to make out in his room so I said okay but I wasn't going to sleep with him. Hey, even I have morals sometimes. So we kept making out and it got a little bit more intense and there was some PG-13 material but I still knew I was forgetting something and it was driving me crazy. Since I didn't want to sleep with him, I guess, he said he really wanted to go down on me. Never one to argue with getting something for nothing I obliged. So he gave me oral sex for a while. Whenever he stopped he came up to kiss me and I looked at his face and I immediately remembered what I had forgot in my drunken stupor:
I was on my period.
FML.
How to Offend the Entire State of Michigan in 4 Days
I never actually realized how offensive my friends and I truly are when we all get together until I went to Michigan. Pretty much my entire life I have always associated with Natty Light drinking alcoholics, herpes-ridden sluts, rude assholes, smart-mouthed yuppies, and other vagrants of upper middle class society. I wonder why I never could be that girl who hangs out with nice people who go see Disney movies and talk about babies and puppies and rainbows or some shit. Oh wait, maybe because I like to actually have fun and don't want to start off my stories with, "Remember that one time we went out, got sober and nothing happened because we suck?"
But every week day I wake up too early and have to be a respectable citizen of Memphis and do crap like answer the phone with my voice so bubbly that my friends call just to listen to me answer it and laugh at me (then they just hang up like assholes, seriously...) And no one is more offensive than my college friends. Whenever I am with them we become these crass, over-sexualized, completely belligerent creepers. In a matter of two hours someone will inevitably show their tits, hump something, get annoyingly drunk, and mention a penis around 231 times. We simply just bring out the best in each other.
So recently I went to visit my friend, Golden Jew, in Michigan. And naturally I could not go alone and was joined by five others I went to college with: Goldilocks, Swayze, Flagpole, Sanchez and Tits Magee. Now I knew this was going to be a shit show and some serious moral ambiguity would ensue, but after taking notice I began to realize that everywhere we went we offended people. I am sure we always do this, but the four days I spent in Michigan might have hit the record of being obscene. Just to be sure of this, I have decided to recant my trip by simply retelling every offensive thing that happened. So in this story, I have numbered every single thing that was done that would displease better people:
DAY 1: I arrive at the Detroit airport and Golden Jew comes to pick me up in his corvette. When we roll up into his house after driving 90 miles an hour the whole trip there he (1) starts to throw a baseball at the mini-van parked in his driveway. I mean he was really giving it a Todd Helton punch. He explained that it was his roommate's and he was using it for the cash for clunkers and that we were going to spray paint over the weekend so it didn't matter if we banged it up a little. There were some kids next door staring in awe as he throws things at the minivan when Swayze pulled his car up yelling "HEEEEY Bitches!" (2) and as Tits Magee sits in the passenger seat with her middle finger out the window while calling us cunts (3). The kids next door then start crying and run into the house and tell mommy there are evil people outside (most likely). Flagpole and Sanchez are in the backseat of the car and everyone gets inside and immediately begins to drink. After everyone is nice and wasted and refuses to eat dinner (4) we go get Goldilocks at the airport and head out to Ann Arbor because it is a Thursday night and Ann Arbor is a college town. And there is no better place to drink on Thursday's than college towns.
Golden Jew is driving the ever pimp-tastic minivan and remains sober for the night. Yet he partakes in the first round of drinking since we go to a German bar and all of us pass around this gigantic boot of beer (there is a God) and make a game out of it with rules and everything. One of the rules was that we all had to refer to each other by the name of the last person we slept with (5) and if you messed up you had to buy the person a drink. (they were only $2, God loves me). This was mostly funny because Tits Magee had recently gotten into black guys, so we all got to spend the entire night calling her "Cordell" (6). And of course Golden Jew was obliged to tell the waiter what we were doing (7) and he just stared at us like freaks. When we went to the next bar with $3 car bombs everyone was ridiculous. We were pushing people around to get to the bar even though it wasn't even crowded (8) and when I found these two girls from Georgia in the bathroom I spent like an hour in there talking shit about UGA and their ugly little bulldog (9). Then all of us found out the guy singing on stage knew how to play Rocky Top on his guitar and Swayze gave him a 20 to play it three times in a row (10) and all seven of us clapped and square danced and yelled the song at the top of our lungs all three times (11). There was literally a circle of people in the bar standing around and watching us. Clearly, no one was on our level. Then just in case we had not offended the University of Michigan bargoers enough we started the SEC chant, infamously annoying to everyone except fans of the SEC (12). Afterwards some dude mentioned Tim Tebow and Swayze politely told him to "suck a dick" (13). Someone during this time we thought it was a great idea to start taking photos, several of which involved massive amount of cleavage and girl on girl kissing (14). We then had to chase ole Tits down as she tried to run out on her tab by literally running down the street and hiding behind a garbage can (15). At home, I passed on on the extra bed with Goldilocks, but since I was so drunk I got her confused with my boyfriend and kept trying to grope her in my sleep (16) so she spent all night saying things like, "No, TCH, stop touching me" (16) and Sanchez in the bed next to us was whispering to Flagpole "this is awesome" (17).
DAY 2: I awoke with Tits Magee trying to hump me (18) and she said she woke up with Golden Jew leaning over her and poking her in the boob saying "those things are huge" (19). Swayze and I sat outside on the back porch and drank and discussed films, malaria, the politics of china and this bitch he was dating who is still sore at him because he dumped her for being stupid and lame and she wrote that he was gay on her facebook status and he wanted to respond that her face was gay (20) so naturally, I purposely tried to add her as my friend just to ask her how gay it was whenever he was jizzing on her face (21) but she didn't fall for it. Once again we all piled in the minivan and this time we went to a tour of Detroit where we saw some abandoned buildings, a bunch of bars, stadiums where the nation's shittiest team play, a lot of minorities, and a total of three times we were offered drugs right on the street. At one bar there were some underage girls at a table with their dad. One of them had on a skimpy bikini top and her 15 year old boob was about to fall out and the guys kept staring and hoping it was going to so much so that Golden Jew, whose back was to her, set up a digital camera right under his arm and asked Flagpole when he had it perfectly focusing on the boob shot (22). He then took a picture of exactly when it fell out and then shouted "RUN" to the rest of us while he bolted out the door before her dad came over and killed him(23).
That night we decided to hit up the yuppie bars and Golden Jew's roommate Pooh was the DD. First of all, we go to this restaurant/bar with some great chicken wings and the waitress thought we were all so cute with our Southern accents and mentioned she was born in Georgia and even wanted to get a tattoo of a peach on her ass. So Golden Jew asked how big it would be and she said it would be really small, which surprised him because he thought she would just get a giant one encompassing her entire ass.(24) She was grossed out by this so he defended himself by saying, "Oh I think that is great that your whole ass would look like a giant peach, just so I don't have to see the pit." (25) We all found it humorous that he mentioned the server's asshole after speaking with her for five minutes but she just turned around and left, disgusted, and probably went to spit on our food. Golden Jew's other roommate, Wisconsin, also joined us and asked where our other friend was. Our other friend he was speaking of was at a wedding and being a shit show somewhere else, but Golden Jew, making up for his sobriety from the previous evening, said, "She couldn't make it, she had to go get an abortion."(26) Everyone just groaned at this remark so he said, "What? Too soon?" (27). Then this drunk girl came over to our table and just sat right down on Sanchez and began poking Tits Magee in the boobs. Tits Magee gets this a lot. I couldn't hear what they were talking about but by the time we got up to leave, this elegant young lady and Swayze were making out in the middle of the restaurant and he was drunkenly trying to get to third base in front of God and everybody. Meanwhile all of us stood there, laughed, pointed and took pictures. (28). After the show was over we went to this cool place and Wisconsin bought us all jager bombs in celebration. Swayze immediately puked all over himself in the middle of the bar.(29) Tits Magee, who got some of the chicken wing vomit on her foot, just looked up at me and said, "Can't take this bitch anywhere" and she went to the bathroom to wash off her foot. (30) Since Swayze got us all kicked out (we now were allowed to tease him mercilessly) we went to this bar called Memphis Smoke where this huge guy who looked like Frankenstein was being a bouncer. Naturally, I thought he was hot so, as I was later told, I spent ten minutes talking to him and rubbing on his biceps (31). Goldilocks and I went and whored ourselves out for free drinks (32) and then Tits Magee and I commented on how all the girls in Detroit dressed like sluts, since we saw several animal, skin-tight dresses and a couple of girls dressed up like disco balls (33). We then made it our life goal to find the Whores-R-Us store that every bitch in Detroit shopped at (34). I mean, in the south, young ladies go to bar in a sundresses, pearls, and a smile, not in pleather shirts used as dresses, come-fuck-me heals and an attitude. On the way home, Wisconsin thought it would be fun to tear up the inside of the van and everyone followed suit and ripped out everything inside it and Tits Magee put one of the broken head rests on top of her head and wore it as a hat for like 45 minutes. (35). Idiot.
DAY 3: The main reason we picked this specific weekend was because of the Hybrid Olympics. The Hybrid Olympics is an unofficial event at someone's house where two different sections of young employees (at an unnamed business) have these games which involve drinking mass quantities of beer. Golden Jew assumed we would love this of course. I can no longer imagine how the automotive industry can go bankrupt when its employees think up such great activities. Anyway we all show up and participate in the games and they are awesome. The funniest game was the Dizzy Bat where everyone spun around on a bat and had to chug a beer and run. Then there was Keg Ball where everyone played kick ball but had full cups of beer at all times so whenever anyone ran or tried to catch a ball they would fall down and spill beer all over themselves. And watching people fall is always funny. By the time Keg Ball was being played everyone there was a shit show. There was this one guy there with this gigantic dog named Tyson. And if anyone knows me they know I am always being an asshole to animals. So I pretty much had this coming... in all fairness to the dog. But I was eating a hot dog right in front of the dog's face and telling him how good it was and then I was putting my face right up to the dog and torturing him by sticking my tongue out.(36) The dog's leash only went so far and was going nuts with the stuff I was doing. But eventually, ole Tyson got some slack on that leash and literally tackled me to the ground and caused me to spill my beer on myself. He then climbed on top of me and profusely licked me and sat right down on my head so that when I looked up all I could see were massive dog-balls right on my forehead. I was officially teabagged by a dog.(37) Apparently half the 100 people there saw that and some took pictures so that made me a name a the party: yes, TCH is the one who got sexually molested by the dog. Who else would that happen to?
Some time during this Golden Jew ends up shirtless, swearing at people during Keg Ball, rolling around on the ground with the dogs and he and Pooh get into a fight in a mud pit (39) Male mud wrestling: now it was a party! Of course, while watching grown men mud wrestle I met a guy myself. He had on a Virginia Tech shirt so let's call him Hokie Fan. He and I started playing our own drinking game which I lost. When I asked what I had to do for losing he told me to go with him behind the house and find out. I'm a smart girl - so I went, but acted like I didn't know what he meant.(40) While I was walking behind the house I see Tits Magee who just shakes her head disapprovingly and flips me off.(41) She can be such a hater. But I bet if the guy's name was Tyrone and he was having a blossoming career in the rap industry she would have been back there faster than you can slap a hoe. So me and the Hokie Fan made out for a while and he suggested we go inside the house. (42.) And of course I am wasted enough to say yes(43). But on the way in Goldilocks grabs me.
GOLDILOCKS: What the hell did you do and who did you do it with?
TCH: I didn't do anything. What are you talking about?
GOLDILOCKS: Shut the fuck up. I know you. I know more about you than I would like. Where are you going?
TCH: (I break because she is right. She knows me): I'm going in the house to fool around with this guy.
GOLDILOCKS: Ok. (she is bored with me and eyes the guy with Tyson) Just don't be stupid. (44)
This is why we are friends. Goldilocks doesn't judge; she just likes to be a bitch and get in my business. Probably why she will make a great lawyer one day.
So I go into the house and Hokie Fan magically appears and grabs me and we start making out in the bathroom. (45)
I am not sure if it was that I was just shocked, just wasted or that all I could hear was Golden Jew and Swayze screaming things outside like, "take that, you cunt rags!"(46) but the whole situation was way less hot than it sounds. So we stopped and readjusted ourselves in order to go outside. But apparently there was a line to get into the bathroom so Hokie Fan hid in the shower (47)and when I got out of the bathroom there were like ten pissed off people staring at me. (48) I watched as three girls went in to use the bathroom completely unaware that he was in the shower (note to self). I just left him in there for God knows how long and went back to the party.
I took a couple of hits from the ice luge and then is when things get really fuzzy. I remember a poor attempt at trying to play 20-man flip cup and that a shirtless Golden Jew couldn't ever get his cup to land right but still kept cheering like he won or something(49). Then Swayze and I went to the restroom and while I was waiting on him to get out of there I laid down on the stairs and passed out.(50) I still have no idea what time it was, how many people saw me, or how long I was out. Swayze said he just saw me, laughed a little, and left me there. (51) What are friends for?
During the time I was unconscious I found out that Hokie Fan finally got out of the bathroom when one of his friends (a straight laced guy apparently) went to relieve himself and he burst right from behind the shower and was like, "Booyah!" (52) So the straight-laced guy pissed all over him and made a scene. Naturally, he and everyone else who saw them leave the bathroom together inquired why he was behind the shower. So my reputation of being the girl who got teabagged by a dog became even more tarnished, and I almost didn't think that was possible since let's keep in mind I was passed out in the floor at this point. I also found out that Goldilocks and the cute dog owner ended up doing some touching and feeling (the dog was left out of it this time).(53) And that Swayze didn't end up hooking up with Snow Boots. Oh sorry, Snow Boots is this girl he had sex with when he went to Michigan previously and she tried to convince him that snow boots could be sexy by doing him while she had on a pair. Thus her nickname. He didn't hook up with her because she had been eyeing someone else it seems. According to Flagpole, Flagpole and Snow Boots were having a pleasant drunken conversation with about six other people when she said to some random guy, "Hey, I might not have as big a tits as that Ashley girl, but I will fuck the hell out of you tonight."(54) Flagpole said he just nodded and said, excuse me I have to go wash my chest hair (or something of the sort).(55) He then went to play beer pong which he usually excels at but did miserably at on this day. When Pooh asked why he was doing so bad, he said it was because he never usually plays beer pong against such fine-ass women and this girl distracted him.(56) The said hot girl heard him say this and she just stared at him in a offended manner and waltzed off. Some people have no sense of graciousness.
I woke up from being passed out by Sanchez kicking me in the butt a couple times.(57) I thanked him and rolled back to the party for some more drinking. I see Golden Jew in someone else's shirt (58)shoveling food in his face and Tits Magee and I start talking to him about something perverted.(59) I don't remember what but I remember it involved both of us touching his penis which we both did and thought was simply hysterical.(60) He didn't even notice. He just kept downing a hot dog while we were giggling like two idiots and Tits Magee made a comment about what smooth balls he had.(61) I myself, don't remember. There wasn't even a drop of sexuality to this. How many people witnessed this is unknown, but no one else even brought it up but me since I am the only one who even remembers. Most of us don't remember the ride home except that Tits Magee had to cuss some guys out in order for us to leave, it was probably just Swayze, but no one really knows.(62)
DAY 4: Following a delicious hangover brunch at a dive bar Swayze, Flagpole, Tits Magee and Sanchez all drove home. But Golden Jew, Pooh, Goldilocks and myself decided to go to Canada. We were much less offensive in Canada since there were only four of us. Yet we still managed some moments. For example, Golden Jew and Goldilocks both proceeded to hit on the attractive members of the border patrol. (63) Goldilocks tried to hurt herself so she could go to a hospital and see what the Canadian public health care option was REALLY like. (64) She also hunted down the herbal medicine stores to try to find one that sells bear gallbladders (don't ask, it is some humane society shit). (65) And we went to a casino where we found out there were free beverages so we went ape shit and had like eight diet cokes just because we could. I know, we live dangerously (66). On the way back into the states we saw a couple of lesbians so Goldilocks loudly said, "Hey guys look. It's lesbians. It's lesbians!" (67)
TCH: Goldilocks, really, act like a democrat. Could you be a little more civilized?
Golden Jew: Dude, you act like you haven't been to a Lady Vols game.(68)
We took things much easier that night since we had to recover from the previous couple of days and fly out that Monday. We went to Greektown in Detroit for some dinner and had a nice evening. I asked Pooh how he liked hanging out with all of us this weekend and his response was, "Man you guys talk more about penises that anyone I ever met." Yeah, that is how we roll - juvenile and subversive. As I was leaving I saw a sign that said we should come back to Michigan. And then I realized Michigan probably really didn't want us there. And if the state of Michigan doesn't want you, then things are really bad.
But every week day I wake up too early and have to be a respectable citizen of Memphis and do crap like answer the phone with my voice so bubbly that my friends call just to listen to me answer it and laugh at me (then they just hang up like assholes, seriously...) And no one is more offensive than my college friends. Whenever I am with them we become these crass, over-sexualized, completely belligerent creepers. In a matter of two hours someone will inevitably show their tits, hump something, get annoyingly drunk, and mention a penis around 231 times. We simply just bring out the best in each other.
So recently I went to visit my friend, Golden Jew, in Michigan. And naturally I could not go alone and was joined by five others I went to college with: Goldilocks, Swayze, Flagpole, Sanchez and Tits Magee. Now I knew this was going to be a shit show and some serious moral ambiguity would ensue, but after taking notice I began to realize that everywhere we went we offended people. I am sure we always do this, but the four days I spent in Michigan might have hit the record of being obscene. Just to be sure of this, I have decided to recant my trip by simply retelling every offensive thing that happened. So in this story, I have numbered every single thing that was done that would displease better people:
DAY 1: I arrive at the Detroit airport and Golden Jew comes to pick me up in his corvette. When we roll up into his house after driving 90 miles an hour the whole trip there he (1) starts to throw a baseball at the mini-van parked in his driveway. I mean he was really giving it a Todd Helton punch. He explained that it was his roommate's and he was using it for the cash for clunkers and that we were going to spray paint over the weekend so it didn't matter if we banged it up a little. There were some kids next door staring in awe as he throws things at the minivan when Swayze pulled his car up yelling "HEEEEY Bitches!" (2) and as Tits Magee sits in the passenger seat with her middle finger out the window while calling us cunts (3). The kids next door then start crying and run into the house and tell mommy there are evil people outside (most likely). Flagpole and Sanchez are in the backseat of the car and everyone gets inside and immediately begins to drink. After everyone is nice and wasted and refuses to eat dinner (4) we go get Goldilocks at the airport and head out to Ann Arbor because it is a Thursday night and Ann Arbor is a college town. And there is no better place to drink on Thursday's than college towns.
Golden Jew is driving the ever pimp-tastic minivan and remains sober for the night. Yet he partakes in the first round of drinking since we go to a German bar and all of us pass around this gigantic boot of beer (there is a God) and make a game out of it with rules and everything. One of the rules was that we all had to refer to each other by the name of the last person we slept with (5) and if you messed up you had to buy the person a drink. (they were only $2, God loves me). This was mostly funny because Tits Magee had recently gotten into black guys, so we all got to spend the entire night calling her "Cordell" (6). And of course Golden Jew was obliged to tell the waiter what we were doing (7) and he just stared at us like freaks. When we went to the next bar with $3 car bombs everyone was ridiculous. We were pushing people around to get to the bar even though it wasn't even crowded (8) and when I found these two girls from Georgia in the bathroom I spent like an hour in there talking shit about UGA and their ugly little bulldog (9). Then all of us found out the guy singing on stage knew how to play Rocky Top on his guitar and Swayze gave him a 20 to play it three times in a row (10) and all seven of us clapped and square danced and yelled the song at the top of our lungs all three times (11). There was literally a circle of people in the bar standing around and watching us. Clearly, no one was on our level. Then just in case we had not offended the University of Michigan bargoers enough we started the SEC chant, infamously annoying to everyone except fans of the SEC (12). Afterwards some dude mentioned Tim Tebow and Swayze politely told him to "suck a dick" (13). Someone during this time we thought it was a great idea to start taking photos, several of which involved massive amount of cleavage and girl on girl kissing (14). We then had to chase ole Tits down as she tried to run out on her tab by literally running down the street and hiding behind a garbage can (15). At home, I passed on on the extra bed with Goldilocks, but since I was so drunk I got her confused with my boyfriend and kept trying to grope her in my sleep (16) so she spent all night saying things like, "No, TCH, stop touching me" (16) and Sanchez in the bed next to us was whispering to Flagpole "this is awesome" (17).
DAY 2: I awoke with Tits Magee trying to hump me (18) and she said she woke up with Golden Jew leaning over her and poking her in the boob saying "those things are huge" (19). Swayze and I sat outside on the back porch and drank and discussed films, malaria, the politics of china and this bitch he was dating who is still sore at him because he dumped her for being stupid and lame and she wrote that he was gay on her facebook status and he wanted to respond that her face was gay (20) so naturally, I purposely tried to add her as my friend just to ask her how gay it was whenever he was jizzing on her face (21) but she didn't fall for it. Once again we all piled in the minivan and this time we went to a tour of Detroit where we saw some abandoned buildings, a bunch of bars, stadiums where the nation's shittiest team play, a lot of minorities, and a total of three times we were offered drugs right on the street. At one bar there were some underage girls at a table with their dad. One of them had on a skimpy bikini top and her 15 year old boob was about to fall out and the guys kept staring and hoping it was going to so much so that Golden Jew, whose back was to her, set up a digital camera right under his arm and asked Flagpole when he had it perfectly focusing on the boob shot (22). He then took a picture of exactly when it fell out and then shouted "RUN" to the rest of us while he bolted out the door before her dad came over and killed him(23).
That night we decided to hit up the yuppie bars and Golden Jew's roommate Pooh was the DD. First of all, we go to this restaurant/bar with some great chicken wings and the waitress thought we were all so cute with our Southern accents and mentioned she was born in Georgia and even wanted to get a tattoo of a peach on her ass. So Golden Jew asked how big it would be and she said it would be really small, which surprised him because he thought she would just get a giant one encompassing her entire ass.(24) She was grossed out by this so he defended himself by saying, "Oh I think that is great that your whole ass would look like a giant peach, just so I don't have to see the pit." (25) We all found it humorous that he mentioned the server's asshole after speaking with her for five minutes but she just turned around and left, disgusted, and probably went to spit on our food. Golden Jew's other roommate, Wisconsin, also joined us and asked where our other friend was. Our other friend he was speaking of was at a wedding and being a shit show somewhere else, but Golden Jew, making up for his sobriety from the previous evening, said, "She couldn't make it, she had to go get an abortion."(26) Everyone just groaned at this remark so he said, "What? Too soon?" (27). Then this drunk girl came over to our table and just sat right down on Sanchez and began poking Tits Magee in the boobs. Tits Magee gets this a lot. I couldn't hear what they were talking about but by the time we got up to leave, this elegant young lady and Swayze were making out in the middle of the restaurant and he was drunkenly trying to get to third base in front of God and everybody. Meanwhile all of us stood there, laughed, pointed and took pictures. (28). After the show was over we went to this cool place and Wisconsin bought us all jager bombs in celebration. Swayze immediately puked all over himself in the middle of the bar.(29) Tits Magee, who got some of the chicken wing vomit on her foot, just looked up at me and said, "Can't take this bitch anywhere" and she went to the bathroom to wash off her foot. (30) Since Swayze got us all kicked out (we now were allowed to tease him mercilessly) we went to this bar called Memphis Smoke where this huge guy who looked like Frankenstein was being a bouncer. Naturally, I thought he was hot so, as I was later told, I spent ten minutes talking to him and rubbing on his biceps (31). Goldilocks and I went and whored ourselves out for free drinks (32) and then Tits Magee and I commented on how all the girls in Detroit dressed like sluts, since we saw several animal, skin-tight dresses and a couple of girls dressed up like disco balls (33). We then made it our life goal to find the Whores-R-Us store that every bitch in Detroit shopped at (34). I mean, in the south, young ladies go to bar in a sundresses, pearls, and a smile, not in pleather shirts used as dresses, come-fuck-me heals and an attitude. On the way home, Wisconsin thought it would be fun to tear up the inside of the van and everyone followed suit and ripped out everything inside it and Tits Magee put one of the broken head rests on top of her head and wore it as a hat for like 45 minutes. (35). Idiot.
DAY 3: The main reason we picked this specific weekend was because of the Hybrid Olympics. The Hybrid Olympics is an unofficial event at someone's house where two different sections of young employees (at an unnamed business) have these games which involve drinking mass quantities of beer. Golden Jew assumed we would love this of course. I can no longer imagine how the automotive industry can go bankrupt when its employees think up such great activities. Anyway we all show up and participate in the games and they are awesome. The funniest game was the Dizzy Bat where everyone spun around on a bat and had to chug a beer and run. Then there was Keg Ball where everyone played kick ball but had full cups of beer at all times so whenever anyone ran or tried to catch a ball they would fall down and spill beer all over themselves. And watching people fall is always funny. By the time Keg Ball was being played everyone there was a shit show. There was this one guy there with this gigantic dog named Tyson. And if anyone knows me they know I am always being an asshole to animals. So I pretty much had this coming... in all fairness to the dog. But I was eating a hot dog right in front of the dog's face and telling him how good it was and then I was putting my face right up to the dog and torturing him by sticking my tongue out.(36) The dog's leash only went so far and was going nuts with the stuff I was doing. But eventually, ole Tyson got some slack on that leash and literally tackled me to the ground and caused me to spill my beer on myself. He then climbed on top of me and profusely licked me and sat right down on my head so that when I looked up all I could see were massive dog-balls right on my forehead. I was officially teabagged by a dog.(37) Apparently half the 100 people there saw that and some took pictures so that made me a name a the party: yes, TCH is the one who got sexually molested by the dog. Who else would that happen to?
Some time during this Golden Jew ends up shirtless, swearing at people during Keg Ball, rolling around on the ground with the dogs and he and Pooh get into a fight in a mud pit (39) Male mud wrestling: now it was a party! Of course, while watching grown men mud wrestle I met a guy myself. He had on a Virginia Tech shirt so let's call him Hokie Fan. He and I started playing our own drinking game which I lost. When I asked what I had to do for losing he told me to go with him behind the house and find out. I'm a smart girl - so I went, but acted like I didn't know what he meant.(40) While I was walking behind the house I see Tits Magee who just shakes her head disapprovingly and flips me off.(41) She can be such a hater. But I bet if the guy's name was Tyrone and he was having a blossoming career in the rap industry she would have been back there faster than you can slap a hoe. So me and the Hokie Fan made out for a while and he suggested we go inside the house. (42.) And of course I am wasted enough to say yes(43). But on the way in Goldilocks grabs me.
GOLDILOCKS: What the hell did you do and who did you do it with?
TCH: I didn't do anything. What are you talking about?
GOLDILOCKS: Shut the fuck up. I know you. I know more about you than I would like. Where are you going?
TCH: (I break because she is right. She knows me): I'm going in the house to fool around with this guy.
GOLDILOCKS: Ok. (she is bored with me and eyes the guy with Tyson) Just don't be stupid. (44)
This is why we are friends. Goldilocks doesn't judge; she just likes to be a bitch and get in my business. Probably why she will make a great lawyer one day.
So I go into the house and Hokie Fan magically appears and grabs me and we start making out in the bathroom. (45)
I am not sure if it was that I was just shocked, just wasted or that all I could hear was Golden Jew and Swayze screaming things outside like, "take that, you cunt rags!"(46) but the whole situation was way less hot than it sounds. So we stopped and readjusted ourselves in order to go outside. But apparently there was a line to get into the bathroom so Hokie Fan hid in the shower (47)and when I got out of the bathroom there were like ten pissed off people staring at me. (48) I watched as three girls went in to use the bathroom completely unaware that he was in the shower (note to self). I just left him in there for God knows how long and went back to the party.
I took a couple of hits from the ice luge and then is when things get really fuzzy. I remember a poor attempt at trying to play 20-man flip cup and that a shirtless Golden Jew couldn't ever get his cup to land right but still kept cheering like he won or something(49). Then Swayze and I went to the restroom and while I was waiting on him to get out of there I laid down on the stairs and passed out.(50) I still have no idea what time it was, how many people saw me, or how long I was out. Swayze said he just saw me, laughed a little, and left me there. (51) What are friends for?
During the time I was unconscious I found out that Hokie Fan finally got out of the bathroom when one of his friends (a straight laced guy apparently) went to relieve himself and he burst right from behind the shower and was like, "Booyah!" (52) So the straight-laced guy pissed all over him and made a scene. Naturally, he and everyone else who saw them leave the bathroom together inquired why he was behind the shower. So my reputation of being the girl who got teabagged by a dog became even more tarnished, and I almost didn't think that was possible since let's keep in mind I was passed out in the floor at this point. I also found out that Goldilocks and the cute dog owner ended up doing some touching and feeling (the dog was left out of it this time).(53) And that Swayze didn't end up hooking up with Snow Boots. Oh sorry, Snow Boots is this girl he had sex with when he went to Michigan previously and she tried to convince him that snow boots could be sexy by doing him while she had on a pair. Thus her nickname. He didn't hook up with her because she had been eyeing someone else it seems. According to Flagpole, Flagpole and Snow Boots were having a pleasant drunken conversation with about six other people when she said to some random guy, "Hey, I might not have as big a tits as that Ashley girl, but I will fuck the hell out of you tonight."(54) Flagpole said he just nodded and said, excuse me I have to go wash my chest hair (or something of the sort).(55) He then went to play beer pong which he usually excels at but did miserably at on this day. When Pooh asked why he was doing so bad, he said it was because he never usually plays beer pong against such fine-ass women and this girl distracted him.(56) The said hot girl heard him say this and she just stared at him in a offended manner and waltzed off. Some people have no sense of graciousness.
I woke up from being passed out by Sanchez kicking me in the butt a couple times.(57) I thanked him and rolled back to the party for some more drinking. I see Golden Jew in someone else's shirt (58)shoveling food in his face and Tits Magee and I start talking to him about something perverted.(59) I don't remember what but I remember it involved both of us touching his penis which we both did and thought was simply hysterical.(60) He didn't even notice. He just kept downing a hot dog while we were giggling like two idiots and Tits Magee made a comment about what smooth balls he had.(61) I myself, don't remember. There wasn't even a drop of sexuality to this. How many people witnessed this is unknown, but no one else even brought it up but me since I am the only one who even remembers. Most of us don't remember the ride home except that Tits Magee had to cuss some guys out in order for us to leave, it was probably just Swayze, but no one really knows.(62)
DAY 4: Following a delicious hangover brunch at a dive bar Swayze, Flagpole, Tits Magee and Sanchez all drove home. But Golden Jew, Pooh, Goldilocks and myself decided to go to Canada. We were much less offensive in Canada since there were only four of us. Yet we still managed some moments. For example, Golden Jew and Goldilocks both proceeded to hit on the attractive members of the border patrol. (63) Goldilocks tried to hurt herself so she could go to a hospital and see what the Canadian public health care option was REALLY like. (64) She also hunted down the herbal medicine stores to try to find one that sells bear gallbladders (don't ask, it is some humane society shit). (65) And we went to a casino where we found out there were free beverages so we went ape shit and had like eight diet cokes just because we could. I know, we live dangerously (66). On the way back into the states we saw a couple of lesbians so Goldilocks loudly said, "Hey guys look. It's lesbians. It's lesbians!" (67)
TCH: Goldilocks, really, act like a democrat. Could you be a little more civilized?
Golden Jew: Dude, you act like you haven't been to a Lady Vols game.(68)
We took things much easier that night since we had to recover from the previous couple of days and fly out that Monday. We went to Greektown in Detroit for some dinner and had a nice evening. I asked Pooh how he liked hanging out with all of us this weekend and his response was, "Man you guys talk more about penises that anyone I ever met." Yeah, that is how we roll - juvenile and subversive. As I was leaving I saw a sign that said we should come back to Michigan. And then I realized Michigan probably really didn't want us there. And if the state of Michigan doesn't want you, then things are really bad.
Friday, November 6, 2009
TCH Avoids Prison Time. Go Me.
I am sorry it has been over a week since I have written anything but you have to understand that I have had a very busy schedule of doing nothing all day. And I recently have been watching all the episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and I had to find out if Buffy beds or slays Angel, the sexy vampire. (f.y.i she does BOTH because this show is awesome.) So as you can see, my mind has been on a lot of important things.
Ok so I got myself in a real pickle recently. It all started like so many girl's problems start: at a frat party. Don't get me wrong, I don't hate myself enough to go pick up guys at frat parties and I haven't really been to any since my freshman year of college when bad ideas are encouraged. But every now and then I amble on over to University of Memphis where my little brother is president of his fraternity and drink some of their shitty beer.
First off, the dynamic between my little brother and I must be explained. There is no other dynamic like the older sister/little brother relationship. He is only one year younger than me and my mom says ever since I was born I picked on him. And this assuredly continued through his acne phase and his years as the president of both the band and quiz bowl team. In high school when I got in trouble for getting caught drinking at a field party I convinced my mom he was gay to get out of it. And when I was like 9, Little Brother tripped and got caught upside down in the banister of the stairs and he cried and begged for me to help him before he fell down the stairs backwards which could have killed him. So instead of helping him, I filmed it. The best part is when he landed on his face. But the one thing we had in common is we both like good movies, good books, and more importantly we love getting wasted and whoring ourselves out. So when I show up this is just what he is doing. I was already drunk and it was already late because there weren't too many people left at the party so Little Brother had to hit on a fat chick. But then they started arguing about the movie "Titanic" and he said it was one of the best movies of the past twenty years, and she said it was corny. So he said she was an idiot who had no knowledge of the cinematic arts or anything about love or poetry and she would just end up married to another fat guy in a trailer and they would regale each other on how great the Wayans brothers movies are. Then he passed out like a bitch.
Since I was wasted and felt like staying out I followed a couple of his friends to this bar down the street. They all thought it was so random and cool that I would go with a bunch of people I didn't know two blocks to a bar I'd never been to. What the hell kind of college experience were they having that they thought doing this was so cool? My freshman year of college me and some girls got a ride to our dorms from two old guys in a van for a beer - making bad decisions is just what you are suppose to do at this time in your life. Their shit was obviously weak. One of the guys that came was really cute and nice to me. He said his name was Roland and he was a about to go to grad school at U. of M. He was Hawaiian and in Tommy's fraternity and when we got to the bar the bouncer checked his I.D. and said Happy Birthday and he told me he was turning 23 tomorrow. So I bought him a drink, this bar had Heineken (my fav), he wanted to get me one, but I insisted that I get it since his birthday was tomorrow.
I usually go to yuppie bars and hangout with people in a higher income bracket, but nothing beats a college bar. You can show up in pajamas and there is always vomit on the floor. Thing is, I was used to going to college bars at UT, where I was always one of the less pretty girls. At any SEC school on any given night 90% of the female crowd is made up of the most popular girls from their high school, 30% of which were homecoming queens, and at least one or two girls who had actually been in the Miss America pageant. It wasn't so bad for me. After all the guys realized they would never get anywhere with these girls and just wasted $100 on buying them vodka cranberries they come over to my table after I finish my jack and cokes. All it takes it some late night Krystals and a ride to get to go home with me. I compromised. But lucky for me this was a University of Memphis bar, so most of the girls were ugly and looked like guests on Jerry Springer. So combining that with my award winning personality, I was a huge hit at the bar. I told them stories about my little brother or Tweak, as they call him because he has Turret Syndrome and "jerks" all the time. He might be a Frat President now, but I told them how he got detention for doing a pole dance in the cafeteria and how he told our Sunday school teacher his favorite movie was "Heathers" when he was 10 so she made him go to therapy. Everyone's favorite story was the time he got mad at me for hitting him with a mop so he took his gun and chased me around the house and threatened to shoot me when where like 12. Oh, for those of you who don't live in a red state, everyone has a gun and shit like this happens all the time. My frigging gynecologist has a gun. After all this embarrassment, Roland and I left and since I couldn't drive I stayed the night at his house. When I am over there and we are wasted one thing leads to another and blah, blah, blah. (And don't say, "Hey, TCH, you left out the best part!" because that isn't true, I mentioned that I had a Heineken.)
So I get Roland's number and I tell him Happy BIrthday the next morning and I go about my way. Later that day I have to go give Little Brother some stuff from Mom and since I knew they would be doing something for Roland's birthday, I thought it would be fun to go back to his house and party some. I go over there and Little Brother is outside trying to make a bum quit sleeping on the sidewalk. Something I am used to seeing in Memphis. Then he sees me.
Little Brother: Hey, bitch. I heard you went out with my friends last night after I passed out.
TCH: Yeah, it was fun. I had to stay at your friend's Roland's house. He seemed nice, is he?
Little Brother: Oh yeah, he is great. He is in the house right now. I thought it would be nice if we took him out since we are really trying to recruit him in our frat.
TCH: Why are you trying to recruit a grad student?
Little Brother: Ha. He isn't a grad student. He is an incoming freshman.
TCH: What? Isn't he turning like 23 today?
Little Brother: Hell no, dummy, that kid just turned 18.
wait for it.
wait for it.
wait for it.
FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK.
I immediately went into the house and grabbed Roland off to the side.
TCH: You lied to me. You are 18!
ROLAND: Well, I just wanted you to like me.
TCH: How did you get in the bar? And buy beer?
ROLAND: They let in 18 year olds. And you bought your own beer. Don't you remember?
TCH: Maybe. (maybe not)
I just left and went home to think about why I suck then I realized if he was 17 and I was 24 then that is illegal. I immediately called my friend Goldilocks because she is in law school and responsible and will one day get me out of a lot of trouble.
GOLDILOCKS: It says in Tennessee law that it is okay as long as there is a five year age difference and it consensual. You are definitely more than five years older than him. And it is a felony. (she starts laughing) You committed a felony.
TCH: You know, this is not the best time for you to get a sense of humor, you bitch.
GOLDILOCKS: Whatever. This is hilarious. You have to email everyone.
TCH: No way. This is bad, even for me. I really need to make better decisions with my life.
GOLDILOCKS: What time was it when you got back to his house?
TCH: I don't know. The bar closed. It was like 3 A.M.
GOLDILOCKS: Well then, he was 18. It was after midnight.
TCH: OH man, you are right. He WAS 18 after midnight. Man you got me out on a loophole even though I did something bad. You are gonna make a great lawyer.
Thus, TCH cannot be imprisoned and can now freely roam the streets of Memphis. But next time, I am checking an I.D.
Ok so I got myself in a real pickle recently. It all started like so many girl's problems start: at a frat party. Don't get me wrong, I don't hate myself enough to go pick up guys at frat parties and I haven't really been to any since my freshman year of college when bad ideas are encouraged. But every now and then I amble on over to University of Memphis where my little brother is president of his fraternity and drink some of their shitty beer.
First off, the dynamic between my little brother and I must be explained. There is no other dynamic like the older sister/little brother relationship. He is only one year younger than me and my mom says ever since I was born I picked on him. And this assuredly continued through his acne phase and his years as the president of both the band and quiz bowl team. In high school when I got in trouble for getting caught drinking at a field party I convinced my mom he was gay to get out of it. And when I was like 9, Little Brother tripped and got caught upside down in the banister of the stairs and he cried and begged for me to help him before he fell down the stairs backwards which could have killed him. So instead of helping him, I filmed it. The best part is when he landed on his face. But the one thing we had in common is we both like good movies, good books, and more importantly we love getting wasted and whoring ourselves out. So when I show up this is just what he is doing. I was already drunk and it was already late because there weren't too many people left at the party so Little Brother had to hit on a fat chick. But then they started arguing about the movie "Titanic" and he said it was one of the best movies of the past twenty years, and she said it was corny. So he said she was an idiot who had no knowledge of the cinematic arts or anything about love or poetry and she would just end up married to another fat guy in a trailer and they would regale each other on how great the Wayans brothers movies are. Then he passed out like a bitch.
Since I was wasted and felt like staying out I followed a couple of his friends to this bar down the street. They all thought it was so random and cool that I would go with a bunch of people I didn't know two blocks to a bar I'd never been to. What the hell kind of college experience were they having that they thought doing this was so cool? My freshman year of college me and some girls got a ride to our dorms from two old guys in a van for a beer - making bad decisions is just what you are suppose to do at this time in your life. Their shit was obviously weak. One of the guys that came was really cute and nice to me. He said his name was Roland and he was a about to go to grad school at U. of M. He was Hawaiian and in Tommy's fraternity and when we got to the bar the bouncer checked his I.D. and said Happy Birthday and he told me he was turning 23 tomorrow. So I bought him a drink, this bar had Heineken (my fav), he wanted to get me one, but I insisted that I get it since his birthday was tomorrow.
I usually go to yuppie bars and hangout with people in a higher income bracket, but nothing beats a college bar. You can show up in pajamas and there is always vomit on the floor. Thing is, I was used to going to college bars at UT, where I was always one of the less pretty girls. At any SEC school on any given night 90% of the female crowd is made up of the most popular girls from their high school, 30% of which were homecoming queens, and at least one or two girls who had actually been in the Miss America pageant. It wasn't so bad for me. After all the guys realized they would never get anywhere with these girls and just wasted $100 on buying them vodka cranberries they come over to my table after I finish my jack and cokes. All it takes it some late night Krystals and a ride to get to go home with me. I compromised. But lucky for me this was a University of Memphis bar, so most of the girls were ugly and looked like guests on Jerry Springer. So combining that with my award winning personality, I was a huge hit at the bar. I told them stories about my little brother or Tweak, as they call him because he has Turret Syndrome and "jerks" all the time. He might be a Frat President now, but I told them how he got detention for doing a pole dance in the cafeteria and how he told our Sunday school teacher his favorite movie was "Heathers" when he was 10 so she made him go to therapy. Everyone's favorite story was the time he got mad at me for hitting him with a mop so he took his gun and chased me around the house and threatened to shoot me when where like 12. Oh, for those of you who don't live in a red state, everyone has a gun and shit like this happens all the time. My frigging gynecologist has a gun. After all this embarrassment, Roland and I left and since I couldn't drive I stayed the night at his house. When I am over there and we are wasted one thing leads to another and blah, blah, blah. (And don't say, "Hey, TCH, you left out the best part!" because that isn't true, I mentioned that I had a Heineken.)
So I get Roland's number and I tell him Happy BIrthday the next morning and I go about my way. Later that day I have to go give Little Brother some stuff from Mom and since I knew they would be doing something for Roland's birthday, I thought it would be fun to go back to his house and party some. I go over there and Little Brother is outside trying to make a bum quit sleeping on the sidewalk. Something I am used to seeing in Memphis. Then he sees me.
Little Brother: Hey, bitch. I heard you went out with my friends last night after I passed out.
TCH: Yeah, it was fun. I had to stay at your friend's Roland's house. He seemed nice, is he?
Little Brother: Oh yeah, he is great. He is in the house right now. I thought it would be nice if we took him out since we are really trying to recruit him in our frat.
TCH: Why are you trying to recruit a grad student?
Little Brother: Ha. He isn't a grad student. He is an incoming freshman.
TCH: What? Isn't he turning like 23 today?
Little Brother: Hell no, dummy, that kid just turned 18.
wait for it.
wait for it.
wait for it.
FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK.
I immediately went into the house and grabbed Roland off to the side.
TCH: You lied to me. You are 18!
ROLAND: Well, I just wanted you to like me.
TCH: How did you get in the bar? And buy beer?
ROLAND: They let in 18 year olds. And you bought your own beer. Don't you remember?
TCH: Maybe. (maybe not)
I just left and went home to think about why I suck then I realized if he was 17 and I was 24 then that is illegal. I immediately called my friend Goldilocks because she is in law school and responsible and will one day get me out of a lot of trouble.
GOLDILOCKS: It says in Tennessee law that it is okay as long as there is a five year age difference and it consensual. You are definitely more than five years older than him. And it is a felony. (she starts laughing) You committed a felony.
TCH: You know, this is not the best time for you to get a sense of humor, you bitch.
GOLDILOCKS: Whatever. This is hilarious. You have to email everyone.
TCH: No way. This is bad, even for me. I really need to make better decisions with my life.
GOLDILOCKS: What time was it when you got back to his house?
TCH: I don't know. The bar closed. It was like 3 A.M.
GOLDILOCKS: Well then, he was 18. It was after midnight.
TCH: OH man, you are right. He WAS 18 after midnight. Man you got me out on a loophole even though I did something bad. You are gonna make a great lawyer.
Thus, TCH cannot be imprisoned and can now freely roam the streets of Memphis. But next time, I am checking an I.D.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
TCH Needs Dating Advice
As they say, love is blind. And when you are a 23 year old, materialistic, female yuppie with low self-esteem and moral dilemmas, love can be very, very blind. Or at least provide the same view as beer goggles. So guys, I have quite a predicament again, thus another email. You see there is this guy who is fixing (it is a verb - deal with it) to move here to Memphis and go to UT med school. And he has a future and is really too good looking to date me but for some reason he wants to and I am looking forward to, at the very least, going out with him a couple of times. That is until I become a typical 23 year old idiot and dump him for a cute loser with no job, no bank account, and has the free clinic on speed dial. But then I got to thinking and I realize that he is going to be a bit too much. You see I am currently dating five people.
Now, now. Before you say, TCH, you have out-slutted yourself this time. I want you to know that I am openly Not Exclusive with any of these young men and they know that. And I am legitimately dating all of them since I have been on dates with all of them. And for some reason they keep calling me back. ALL of them. I pretty proud of being a pimp but this has gotten to be too much. I have hit my record of juggling guys. And since I am shallow and constantly seek out the approval of others for self-esteem I would like some help on which guys I should keep seeing and which ones I should throw out quicker than a bag of stale skittles.
NOTE: I know some of you are thinking, "Man how is TCH dating five guys? She isn't even hot?" And my response to that is a nice "Blow me, fairy godmother" at least I don't look like this epitome of White Trash America and that I have figured out how to get dates with people, or so I think. You need one of these two methods: 1. Bring Sexy Back, and look like Scarlett Johanessan or Brad Pitt or 2. If you are just bringing Moderately Attractive back and don't look like the Crypt Keeper of the aforementioned lady, you just have to go out all the time and be really friendly and charming. I'm so serious. I go out like five nights a week and meet tons of people, some of them aren't even turned off by my stories of puking in front of President Obama (SEE: Worst Hangover Ever Story). So if you want a date get off your ass and DO something. Go to bars and drink, go to church and praise some Jesus, join the mafia and kill people, you can even go to Somalia and deworm orphans with Tim Tebow (or whatever the hell he is always going on about). You aren't gonna meet anyone at home. And most importantly, be really friendly and smile and talk to people. Four out of the five guys I met because I said something first and I acted happier than 12 year old at a Jonas Brothers concert. And you need to be brave and speak, no one is attractive to the creepers who quietly sit in the corner. No one will talk to you and if they do it would help if you said something positive and weren't as boring as a Conference USA football game. I don't know anything about men or anything like that. But I do know that is how I ended up dating five guys at once and working on a sixth. Oh, and being easy helps too.
So here are the contenders for my affection. I didn't use their last names to protect the innocent, but I do know their last names. Email me with your thoughts on which ones I should keep around. I will be keeping a folder with the score in it. (you know I really will). Feel free to email your responses to Reply to All in your response, I am sure everyone else I email would love to hear your opinion.
* 1. MARK (aka The Mark, Ex-Boyfriend)
Age: 28 Height: 6'4 College: Ole Miss and Oregon for MBA Career: Advertising Exec. $$$$
How We Met: Through a friend at a party one year ago. We then proceeded to date for ten awesome months until he cheated on me and showing his inner asshole.
The Situation: Ex-boyfriends are like the gift that keeps on giving. I can't get rid of him and he wants to go back out. Previous feelings of adoration rear their ugly heads whenever I am in his presence. Love is a bitch. I don't want to stay with him b/c he was unfaithful and that is a dealbreaker. He has no idea that I am dating other people either but I don't see him that much.
Biggest PRO: Wonderful guy except for infidelity. Good job, great salary. Acts just like TCH which is probably why he cheated.
Biggest CON: Man whore ways still not out of system.
* 2. MATT (aka Environmentalist, Green Guy, Chef)
Age: 26 Height: 6'2 College: Culinary School Career: A FORMERLY employed chef at a vegan restaurant.
How We Met: At the Zoo Brew a few months ago. He was sitting by himself and my pimp friend Shelton told me to go talk to him. So I took my tipsy tail over to him and asked "Would you like to join this table of girls for a drink?" He laughed and came over and I knew I had him when he got me a drink a the bar later in the night. And even if I didn't, I still had some free drinks out of the deal.
The Situation: Went out a few times and he quit calling me. Turns out his phone got cut off because he doesn't have a job and can't pay for anything. But it is back on now and we do stuff.
Biggest PRO: He is nice and a gentleman. Big environmentalist and rides a bike. Kind of a hippie, but has a buzz cut.
Biggest CON: No car, rarely has a phone or a job. Did I mention he has an Ex-wife? hmmmm
* 3. Zack (aka Minglewood)
Age: 23 Height: 6'4 College: Christian Brothers University Career: Books bands and handles the sound for certain venues
How We Met: Well, one night at this small band venue called Minglewood I got absolutely obliterated and noticed all the hot guys were near the stage so I went up there and jumped around and met him. See what being friendly can do? Six hours later he was in the pool at my house.
The Situation: I think we go out the most. Been seeing each other for a few weeks
Biggest PRO: He is fun. He is a huge Vols fan. Just my type looks-wise
Biggest CON: He is 23. He once told me he love Bill Clinton (yay!) but hated Hillary () So I naturally asked him why and he gave me the same answer people always give, "I just don't like her. She is a bitch." Thus, he received my prepared speech on why Hillary is awesome. But he sat through it at least.
4. MARK (aka MARK 32)
Age: 28 Height: Only 6'0 College: Rhodes College Career: Accountant for family jewelry business
How We Met: Started talking about basketball in a sports bar.
The Situation: He calls me all the time. We go out a lot. I met him the night after I met Zack.
Biggest PRO: Good job. Good family. Always seeks my attention. Seems like a nice guy
Biggest CON: I've seriously had business with five Mark's in my dating pool, I don't need another. He has a personality that is about as exciting as watching CSPAN. He is kind of weird, but I think it is just because he is an accountant.
5. Chris (aka Alabama, country guy, UPS guy)
Age: 25, I think Height: 6'2 College: Alabama, ugh, I know Career: UPS business of some sort
How We Met: He is friends with my ex-boyfriend. (haha, shows him) and we had one wild night in midtown that let to a date.
The Situation: We have been out on a date just once. We usually just meet up for happy hours and such. I don't think he wants a girlfriend, which isn't bad to me.
Biggest PRO: Seems to have a nice job. Hottie. Always pays and is fun.
Biggest CON: Loves to call or text me at around midnight to meet up during school nights. Too country for me. He is kind of a jackass to people. And he is really stupid. Did I mention he went to BAMA?
* C'mon guys, you know what that means.
So please help me with this problem. I'm looking at only keeping one or two of them around. I can't decide. I suggest you rank them. That might be easiest. I will email everyone with who I decide later. And I am going to Michigan in a few days to think it over. Thank you for your help.
Now, now. Before you say, TCH, you have out-slutted yourself this time. I want you to know that I am openly Not Exclusive with any of these young men and they know that. And I am legitimately dating all of them since I have been on dates with all of them. And for some reason they keep calling me back. ALL of them. I pretty proud of being a pimp but this has gotten to be too much. I have hit my record of juggling guys. And since I am shallow and constantly seek out the approval of others for self-esteem I would like some help on which guys I should keep seeing and which ones I should throw out quicker than a bag of stale skittles.
NOTE: I know some of you are thinking, "Man how is TCH dating five guys? She isn't even hot?" And my response to that is a nice "Blow me, fairy godmother" at least I don't look like this epitome of White Trash America and that I have figured out how to get dates with people, or so I think. You need one of these two methods: 1. Bring Sexy Back, and look like Scarlett Johanessan or Brad Pitt or 2. If you are just bringing Moderately Attractive back and don't look like the Crypt Keeper of the aforementioned lady, you just have to go out all the time and be really friendly and charming. I'm so serious. I go out like five nights a week and meet tons of people, some of them aren't even turned off by my stories of puking in front of President Obama (SEE: Worst Hangover Ever Story). So if you want a date get off your ass and DO something. Go to bars and drink, go to church and praise some Jesus, join the mafia and kill people, you can even go to Somalia and deworm orphans with Tim Tebow (or whatever the hell he is always going on about). You aren't gonna meet anyone at home. And most importantly, be really friendly and smile and talk to people. Four out of the five guys I met because I said something first and I acted happier than 12 year old at a Jonas Brothers concert. And you need to be brave and speak, no one is attractive to the creepers who quietly sit in the corner. No one will talk to you and if they do it would help if you said something positive and weren't as boring as a Conference USA football game. I don't know anything about men or anything like that. But I do know that is how I ended up dating five guys at once and working on a sixth. Oh, and being easy helps too.
So here are the contenders for my affection. I didn't use their last names to protect the innocent, but I do know their last names. Email me with your thoughts on which ones I should keep around. I will be keeping a folder with the score in it. (you know I really will). Feel free to email your responses to Reply to All in your response, I am sure everyone else I email would love to hear your opinion.
* 1. MARK (aka The Mark, Ex-Boyfriend)
Age: 28 Height: 6'4 College: Ole Miss and Oregon for MBA Career: Advertising Exec. $$$$
How We Met: Through a friend at a party one year ago. We then proceeded to date for ten awesome months until he cheated on me and showing his inner asshole.
The Situation: Ex-boyfriends are like the gift that keeps on giving. I can't get rid of him and he wants to go back out. Previous feelings of adoration rear their ugly heads whenever I am in his presence. Love is a bitch. I don't want to stay with him b/c he was unfaithful and that is a dealbreaker. He has no idea that I am dating other people either but I don't see him that much.
Biggest PRO: Wonderful guy except for infidelity. Good job, great salary. Acts just like TCH which is probably why he cheated.
Biggest CON: Man whore ways still not out of system.
* 2. MATT (aka Environmentalist, Green Guy, Chef)
Age: 26 Height: 6'2 College: Culinary School Career: A FORMERLY employed chef at a vegan restaurant.
How We Met: At the Zoo Brew a few months ago. He was sitting by himself and my pimp friend Shelton told me to go talk to him. So I took my tipsy tail over to him and asked "Would you like to join this table of girls for a drink?" He laughed and came over and I knew I had him when he got me a drink a the bar later in the night. And even if I didn't, I still had some free drinks out of the deal.
The Situation: Went out a few times and he quit calling me. Turns out his phone got cut off because he doesn't have a job and can't pay for anything. But it is back on now and we do stuff.
Biggest PRO: He is nice and a gentleman. Big environmentalist and rides a bike. Kind of a hippie, but has a buzz cut.
Biggest CON: No car, rarely has a phone or a job. Did I mention he has an Ex-wife? hmmmm
* 3. Zack (aka Minglewood)
Age: 23 Height: 6'4 College: Christian Brothers University Career: Books bands and handles the sound for certain venues
How We Met: Well, one night at this small band venue called Minglewood I got absolutely obliterated and noticed all the hot guys were near the stage so I went up there and jumped around and met him. See what being friendly can do? Six hours later he was in the pool at my house.
The Situation: I think we go out the most. Been seeing each other for a few weeks
Biggest PRO: He is fun. He is a huge Vols fan. Just my type looks-wise
Biggest CON: He is 23. He once told me he love Bill Clinton (yay!) but hated Hillary () So I naturally asked him why and he gave me the same answer people always give, "I just don't like her. She is a bitch." Thus, he received my prepared speech on why Hillary is awesome. But he sat through it at least.
4. MARK (aka MARK 32)
Age: 28 Height: Only 6'0 College: Rhodes College Career: Accountant for family jewelry business
How We Met: Started talking about basketball in a sports bar.
The Situation: He calls me all the time. We go out a lot. I met him the night after I met Zack.
Biggest PRO: Good job. Good family. Always seeks my attention. Seems like a nice guy
Biggest CON: I've seriously had business with five Mark's in my dating pool, I don't need another. He has a personality that is about as exciting as watching CSPAN. He is kind of weird, but I think it is just because he is an accountant.
5. Chris (aka Alabama, country guy, UPS guy)
Age: 25, I think Height: 6'2 College: Alabama, ugh, I know Career: UPS business of some sort
How We Met: He is friends with my ex-boyfriend. (haha, shows him) and we had one wild night in midtown that let to a date.
The Situation: We have been out on a date just once. We usually just meet up for happy hours and such. I don't think he wants a girlfriend, which isn't bad to me.
Biggest PRO: Seems to have a nice job. Hottie. Always pays and is fun.
Biggest CON: Loves to call or text me at around midnight to meet up during school nights. Too country for me. He is kind of a jackass to people. And he is really stupid. Did I mention he went to BAMA?
* C'mon guys, you know what that means.
So please help me with this problem. I'm looking at only keeping one or two of them around. I can't decide. I suggest you rank them. That might be easiest. I will email everyone with who I decide later. And I am going to Michigan in a few days to think it over. Thank you for your help.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
The Worst Hangover of My Life
This story is dedicated to President Obama and our waitress at Wine Night
The summer before my senior year is what I refer to as The Summer of the Wine. This is because my cohorts and I discovered these cheap jugs of Reisling, of which we drank everyday by the gallon, and more importantly we became addicted to Wine Night: A glorious evening of half priced wine at the Sunspot bar on the Strip where a group of common college folk drank wine and became the happiest mother fuckers this side of Christmas. That summer, the wine dripped from our lips like it was the nectar of the gods. We never left before the bar closed and we never left sober. Of the small handful of times I've been sick from drinking, three of the instances came from Wine Night. You got to drink a lot of wine for this to happen, but we just could never stop. One moment I would be sipping a pinot noir and the next I was crawling from the toiet into my friend's butter sheets. While at various Wine Nights I saw Golden Jew spit on someone and think it was charming, Swayze punch some tool in the face, Goldilocks meet like five future boyfriends, Pigtails get kicked out before 8, and Tits Magee pass out on the bar. It goes without saying, there are some fond memories there. But one night is responsible for the Worst Hangover of My Life.
It all began when Pigtails and I decided to go to Wine Night by ourselves because no one else was around. The morning after Wine Night I was suppose to ride with Goldilocks and Swayze to South Carolina to see Barack Obama speak (back when he was a senator) and I was going to write an article on it (back when I wrote about things that mattered). Since I had to be up at 6AM to leave I knew we couldn't stay up late so Pigtails and I agreed to just have a bottle and got a small little corner table and have a few glasses, a few laughs and turn in early. Goldilocks was coming to meet us early too, but I knew that meant around midnight. If Jesus came back to Earth to carry his people to heaven, he would have to wait two damn hours on that bitch to do her hair. It goes without saying by the time Goldilocks did show up ,that one bottle had turned into three. When she walked in she witnessed Pigtails and myself hunched over our little corner table calling all our friends and telling everyone how much we loved them.
GOLDILOCKS: TCH, I told you not too drink too much because we have to be up so early
TCH (slurred): I'm NOT DRUNK I'M FINE. HAHAHAHA.
PIGTAILS: WE LOVE YOU, GOLDILOCKS. We fucking LOVE YOU!
TCH: HAHA! I will be fine. I always show up on time. I'll be good to go.
GOLDILOCKS (obviously peeved): Well I am coming to your apartment at six and if you aren't up I am going to leave you. And you have to go.
TCH: Dude! I'm GOOD. I KNOW. This guy keeps texting me and I think I might go over there after this though.
GOLDILOCKS: No. That is bad idea. We have to be up early and this guy isn't going to like you if you act like a slut.
PIGTAILS: It's cool. She IS a slut. (TCH laughs). But I will make sure she gets home safe. (Pigtails's little hand then reaches up with her glass to toast to Goldilocks but she can't reach that high so she falls out of her chair).
This was just hysterical to myself and to Pigtails, but Goldilocks, the sober one, just looks bored with our debauchery. Sometime between Goldilocks leaving and the last bottle of wine, Pigtails switched to beers and got me some beers too. It was somewhere during this beer drinking that I lost my memory. Huge pieces of the night are just missing. All I remember, are the following incidences that didn't necessarily happen in order:
- Pigtails setting in the lap of some big, black guy.
- A water hydrant exploding
- Taking shots of something vile
- My lip hurting
- Making out with a guy
- Watching Pigtails throw some Krystal burgers at people
- Walking somewhere in the Fort area
- Throwing up
- Waking up on a cold bathroom floor
I woke up on the cold bathroom floor because my phone was ringing right next to my pounding head. I mumbled some sort of hello, when Goldilocks answered the phone, vomiting up sunshine and rainbows as usual.
GOLDILOCKS: Good morning, Sweetie! Are we up? We have to get on the road.
TCH: Hold on.
I sat up to see my surroundings to realize I was not in my apartment. I did not know where I was and I did not know who's boxers I was in, yet I still had on my party shirt from the night before. I must've looked classy.
TCH: Hey, I don't know where I am. Can you come get me when I find out?
GOLDILOCKS: What the hell? I told you to go home early.
TCH: Well, whatever. Let me see where I am and if I need a ride
GOLDILOCKS: I am going to get Swayze and going to your apartment. You just better be there when I get there! (click)
That Slut. My head hurt so bad and sitting up was making me feel sick. I tried to stand and when I did, I puked. How convenient it was that I was already in the bathroom. I'm such a good drunk. My lip was swollen from something and there was dried blood on the bottom of it. I clutched my stomach as I dizzily roamed around the mysterious apartment. I couldn't see straight, the sun was barely rising but it was already making my head hurt. I just kept groaning. I went into this bedroom where this Random guy was passed out in his bed. I saw my flip flops and my wallet, yet my purse was no where to be found. I stumbled around with my eyes half opened trying to be quiet so not as to wake up the Random, but I needed to find my purse and my pants. After a few minutes I just said, screw it and I left the Random's apartment and surveyed where I was. Goldilocks wouldn't answer her phone because she is a skank so I walked back to my apartment. The entire walk home I kept having to take breaks by the side of the road to rest and vomit. It was disguting and I was in a party shirt, some Random's boxer shorts, and just holding my shoes. Some bitches were walking to the library and look judgementally at me, not that I could blame them since even the bums were laughing at me. By the time I made it back to my place and just threw my clothes and stuff and a bag and kept having to rest and be sick. Eventually I made it downstairs to meet my friends.
TCH: Don't fuck with me right now. I feel like shit.
SWAYZE: You smell like wine. Did you just slur your words?
GOLDILOCKS: Oh my God. You are still wasted. When did you get to sleep?
TCH: I have no idea. I need to call Pigtails.
They took me to McDonald's and try to force feed me a biscuit to make me sober up. During the whole four-hour ride to South Carolina I had the shakes, a migraine, and was sick to my stomach. I was doubled over the whole way. When we got there and got our stuff I felt like I was going to die. I finally got a hold of Pigtails on the phone.
TCH: What happened when we left the bar?
PIGTAILS: I don't know. I just know I pissed all over my boyfriend and his bed. And when I woke up to get my car it was parked in the middle of the front yard and there is a dent in the front of it and had some branches stuck in the grill.
TCH: Well hell...
I had to get off the phone to go to Obama's speech. It was in this large hotel ballroom and it was extremely hot. I was sweating out the wine I think because I kept smelling it everywhere. I was dizzy and hot and having trouble focusing during his whole speech. And then right in the middle of Obama talking about the healthcare debacle I felt it coming: I was going to puke. I got up from our seats and made tons of noise and stepped over people. Everyone was staring and I walked to the back of the ballroom and saw secret service and tried to ask where the restroom was when I just threw up and shoved my head into this large trashcan. The secret service man stared. I swear, the entire ballroom looked at me, and Mr. President himself, even paused in his speech. After that, I felt ok so I went and sat back down. Swayze and Goldilocks told me no one noticed. But I just hope the next time I meet President Obama he doesn't look at me and say, "Oh, I remember you..."
Through various sources, Pigtails and I have determined that after the wine left us shit housed, we got some beers bought for us by these guys on the football team, and then did shots with them and she even got the number of one of them. Then we left, went to Krystals where we fought with someone. She ran into a fire hydrant and dropped me off at the wrong house to meet this guy I was texting. So I had to walk around to find it. He still has my purse and my pants. I still sleep in his boxers. The Random actually called me if I wanted to get my stuff but I couldn't face him again. He told me that I was making out with his roomate because I got the two guys confused. And then I got sick and took off my pants because they were nasty and stole his boxers. I'm glad I make such a good first impression.
I also realized the reason I was so hungover was because I got so drunk and then got 15 minutes to sleep it off. I was seriously hungover for days. The good thing was, I found out my bar tab was only $20 somehow. That should be a T-shirt advertising for Wine Night. "One great night of fun and all I lost was $20, a pair of blue jeans, and a whole lot of dignity."
The summer before my senior year is what I refer to as The Summer of the Wine. This is because my cohorts and I discovered these cheap jugs of Reisling, of which we drank everyday by the gallon, and more importantly we became addicted to Wine Night: A glorious evening of half priced wine at the Sunspot bar on the Strip where a group of common college folk drank wine and became the happiest mother fuckers this side of Christmas. That summer, the wine dripped from our lips like it was the nectar of the gods. We never left before the bar closed and we never left sober. Of the small handful of times I've been sick from drinking, three of the instances came from Wine Night. You got to drink a lot of wine for this to happen, but we just could never stop. One moment I would be sipping a pinot noir and the next I was crawling from the toiet into my friend's butter sheets. While at various Wine Nights I saw Golden Jew spit on someone and think it was charming, Swayze punch some tool in the face, Goldilocks meet like five future boyfriends, Pigtails get kicked out before 8, and Tits Magee pass out on the bar. It goes without saying, there are some fond memories there. But one night is responsible for the Worst Hangover of My Life.
It all began when Pigtails and I decided to go to Wine Night by ourselves because no one else was around. The morning after Wine Night I was suppose to ride with Goldilocks and Swayze to South Carolina to see Barack Obama speak (back when he was a senator) and I was going to write an article on it (back when I wrote about things that mattered). Since I had to be up at 6AM to leave I knew we couldn't stay up late so Pigtails and I agreed to just have a bottle and got a small little corner table and have a few glasses, a few laughs and turn in early. Goldilocks was coming to meet us early too, but I knew that meant around midnight. If Jesus came back to Earth to carry his people to heaven, he would have to wait two damn hours on that bitch to do her hair. It goes without saying by the time Goldilocks did show up ,that one bottle had turned into three. When she walked in she witnessed Pigtails and myself hunched over our little corner table calling all our friends and telling everyone how much we loved them.
GOLDILOCKS: TCH, I told you not too drink too much because we have to be up so early
TCH (slurred): I'm NOT DRUNK I'M FINE. HAHAHAHA.
PIGTAILS: WE LOVE YOU, GOLDILOCKS. We fucking LOVE YOU!
TCH: HAHA! I will be fine. I always show up on time. I'll be good to go.
GOLDILOCKS (obviously peeved): Well I am coming to your apartment at six and if you aren't up I am going to leave you. And you have to go.
TCH: Dude! I'm GOOD. I KNOW. This guy keeps texting me and I think I might go over there after this though.
GOLDILOCKS: No. That is bad idea. We have to be up early and this guy isn't going to like you if you act like a slut.
PIGTAILS: It's cool. She IS a slut. (TCH laughs). But I will make sure she gets home safe. (Pigtails's little hand then reaches up with her glass to toast to Goldilocks but she can't reach that high so she falls out of her chair).
This was just hysterical to myself and to Pigtails, but Goldilocks, the sober one, just looks bored with our debauchery. Sometime between Goldilocks leaving and the last bottle of wine, Pigtails switched to beers and got me some beers too. It was somewhere during this beer drinking that I lost my memory. Huge pieces of the night are just missing. All I remember, are the following incidences that didn't necessarily happen in order:
- Pigtails setting in the lap of some big, black guy.
- A water hydrant exploding
- Taking shots of something vile
- My lip hurting
- Making out with a guy
- Watching Pigtails throw some Krystal burgers at people
- Walking somewhere in the Fort area
- Throwing up
- Waking up on a cold bathroom floor
I woke up on the cold bathroom floor because my phone was ringing right next to my pounding head. I mumbled some sort of hello, when Goldilocks answered the phone, vomiting up sunshine and rainbows as usual.
GOLDILOCKS: Good morning, Sweetie! Are we up? We have to get on the road.
TCH: Hold on.
I sat up to see my surroundings to realize I was not in my apartment. I did not know where I was and I did not know who's boxers I was in, yet I still had on my party shirt from the night before. I must've looked classy.
TCH: Hey, I don't know where I am. Can you come get me when I find out?
GOLDILOCKS: What the hell? I told you to go home early.
TCH: Well, whatever. Let me see where I am and if I need a ride
GOLDILOCKS: I am going to get Swayze and going to your apartment. You just better be there when I get there! (click)
That Slut. My head hurt so bad and sitting up was making me feel sick. I tried to stand and when I did, I puked. How convenient it was that I was already in the bathroom. I'm such a good drunk. My lip was swollen from something and there was dried blood on the bottom of it. I clutched my stomach as I dizzily roamed around the mysterious apartment. I couldn't see straight, the sun was barely rising but it was already making my head hurt. I just kept groaning. I went into this bedroom where this Random guy was passed out in his bed. I saw my flip flops and my wallet, yet my purse was no where to be found. I stumbled around with my eyes half opened trying to be quiet so not as to wake up the Random, but I needed to find my purse and my pants. After a few minutes I just said, screw it and I left the Random's apartment and surveyed where I was. Goldilocks wouldn't answer her phone because she is a skank so I walked back to my apartment. The entire walk home I kept having to take breaks by the side of the road to rest and vomit. It was disguting and I was in a party shirt, some Random's boxer shorts, and just holding my shoes. Some bitches were walking to the library and look judgementally at me, not that I could blame them since even the bums were laughing at me. By the time I made it back to my place and just threw my clothes and stuff and a bag and kept having to rest and be sick. Eventually I made it downstairs to meet my friends.
TCH: Don't fuck with me right now. I feel like shit.
SWAYZE: You smell like wine. Did you just slur your words?
GOLDILOCKS: Oh my God. You are still wasted. When did you get to sleep?
TCH: I have no idea. I need to call Pigtails.
They took me to McDonald's and try to force feed me a biscuit to make me sober up. During the whole four-hour ride to South Carolina I had the shakes, a migraine, and was sick to my stomach. I was doubled over the whole way. When we got there and got our stuff I felt like I was going to die. I finally got a hold of Pigtails on the phone.
TCH: What happened when we left the bar?
PIGTAILS: I don't know. I just know I pissed all over my boyfriend and his bed. And when I woke up to get my car it was parked in the middle of the front yard and there is a dent in the front of it and had some branches stuck in the grill.
TCH: Well hell...
I had to get off the phone to go to Obama's speech. It was in this large hotel ballroom and it was extremely hot. I was sweating out the wine I think because I kept smelling it everywhere. I was dizzy and hot and having trouble focusing during his whole speech. And then right in the middle of Obama talking about the healthcare debacle I felt it coming: I was going to puke. I got up from our seats and made tons of noise and stepped over people. Everyone was staring and I walked to the back of the ballroom and saw secret service and tried to ask where the restroom was when I just threw up and shoved my head into this large trashcan. The secret service man stared. I swear, the entire ballroom looked at me, and Mr. President himself, even paused in his speech. After that, I felt ok so I went and sat back down. Swayze and Goldilocks told me no one noticed. But I just hope the next time I meet President Obama he doesn't look at me and say, "Oh, I remember you..."
Through various sources, Pigtails and I have determined that after the wine left us shit housed, we got some beers bought for us by these guys on the football team, and then did shots with them and she even got the number of one of them. Then we left, went to Krystals where we fought with someone. She ran into a fire hydrant and dropped me off at the wrong house to meet this guy I was texting. So I had to walk around to find it. He still has my purse and my pants. I still sleep in his boxers. The Random actually called me if I wanted to get my stuff but I couldn't face him again. He told me that I was making out with his roomate because I got the two guys confused. And then I got sick and took off my pants because they were nasty and stole his boxers. I'm glad I make such a good first impression.
I also realized the reason I was so hungover was because I got so drunk and then got 15 minutes to sleep it off. I was seriously hungover for days. The good thing was, I found out my bar tab was only $20 somehow. That should be a T-shirt advertising for Wine Night. "One great night of fun and all I lost was $20, a pair of blue jeans, and a whole lot of dignity."
The Accidental Anal Incident
WARNING: This story contains explcit material that is extremely damaging to my image as an upstanding Southern lady. Therefore if this email gets forwarded around at great lengths it could not only cost me a Pulitzer, but cause me to move to Cambodia in a black shroud where I would live an anonymous life among monks. So PLEASE handle this email with care and only show it to...well you know the people you are allowed to show it to. Them, and of course some random folks I will never meet are okay too.
OK so it was Thursday night and I was just telling my roommate that I was going to take it easy when my friend Juka called out of the blue and asked me to go to a bar with her. She told me she was going to some bar called Double Deuce near University of Memphis and there was a SEVEN dollar cover for all the beer you could drink. Seven bucks for a slice of heaven? I don't even think I said goodbye I was out the door so fast. Marine Bob went with her and she brought some new friends I didn't know.
While we were drinking Marine Bob told me he saw the Lex Luther look-alike I had hooked up with at the Ole Miss game down the street. The guy's name was Joe and I called him Bald Guy because he shaves his head. He was funny and drank a lot so I texted him.
"Remember me? Come to Double Deuce." He replied within a few seconds that he would be right there. A man with no excuses. I liked him already. When he got there he knew all the people I was with and I asked Juka about him and she told me he was a "partier who slept with everyone'" and I liked him even more.
As one can imagine all of us end up OBLITERATED by midnight. And I ended up stepping out of the bar around 2am and I remember thinking that I have to quit going out like this on school nights because it makes work suck all that much more. But much like drinking and driving, sex without protection, and taking relationship advice from my friends…I had to learn things the hard way. As I got into my car, Bald Guy calls me and asks if he can meet me at my house. I told myself it's too late and I have to work in the morning, but then I thought I'm too young to be responsible and it's not like I'm old as my mom – or responsible for that matter. So I told him he could come over.
When he got there we were both so wasted there was a lot I don't remember, but one thing I'll never forget…
We had this really drunk, rough sex that last forever. I couldn't really tell if it was good or bad because I was so drunk, but he had an ENOURMOUS penis. I remember it was rough because I had to keep telling him that everything he touched was attached to my body. But then we were doing it doggy style for a while and all of a sudden I felt this sharp pain and the wind got knocked out me. You know when you are drunk you have such a slow reaction time? Well it was taking me a minute to realize what was happening. At first I thought maybe my head was slamming into the headboard too hard but then in my drunken stupor I realized that wasn't where the pain was coming from and right before Bald Guy thrusted in me one more time I realized what was going on and screamed:
"AAAAAAHHHHHHHH. THAT'S NOT RIGHT. THAT'S NOT RIGHT. WRONG WRONG WRONG PLACE. STOOOPPPPPP!!!!"
To put it bluntly, Bald guy was fucking me right in the ASS. Or in more discreet terms, he was overthrowing to the intended receiver worse than Jonathan Crompton on a third down conversion. When he stopped he apologized profusely and said it was an accident. He then tried to have sex in the correct orifice again and I yelled, NO NO NO NO. I literally was whimpering as I grabbed my blanket and curled up into a ball trying to ignore the exploding pain coming from my gluteus maximus.
Bald Guy: Can't we do it the regular way?
TCH: (whimper)
There was no way he or his Weapon of Mass Destruction was going near me for the rest of the night. Now I'm not a girl who is a major hater of Anal Sex, I mean, whatever floats your boat. But a surprise poke from behind minus any lubricant or mental preparation with a penis nicknamed Mount Everest was not justifiable anal sex. It was Ass Rape. He asked if we could just cuddle then and I spent the rest of the night being terrified of his penis and trying not to roll over so that he couln't spoon me. When I awoke to go to work too few hours later my entire body hurt. I knew it was because I was hungover and had such rough sex, but I pretty much forgot about my Ass Trauma. Then I said goodbye to Bald Guy and I got in my car. When I sat down pain shot throughout my body. Then the Accidental Anal incident all came back. I was reminded of that guy in American History X that couldn't walk or sit right after he got raped in prison. I spend the rest of the day sitting down with caution and two days later I was still a little sore.
I considered going to the doctor, but I found that too mortifying but I still had to discuss this with my friends. I told Joy because she is a good listener, my friend Goldilocks because I knew she had a huge fear of anything involving the butt, and Pigtails- the only other person who I can see something so horrible happening to. That Saturday I went with Bald Guy to the fair and he asked if I would go home with him after. I told him I was still a little sore from our incident and he didn't even remember. He thought it was kind of funny until he realized his mistake wouldn't get him laid again. So he said to make it up to me he would win me something at the fair. Right! Sorry, but a blow up balloon of a TeleTubby was not going to change the fact that I now know what it feels like to be someone's prison bitch.
Several guys have called me since but I don't want to go out with any of them, because I'm scared. I'm not gonna lie. I'm terrified of something like this happening again. I can just see myself in the hospital for accidental anal sex and having to explain everything to my mother and then her telling me no man will ever want to marry me now. How do I even file an insurance claim for that? Blunt trauma to the ass? So guys, I don't know when the next time I date will be. So my stories might get put on hold. And I'm not doing doggy style until I'm married.
And just to pour some salt on my wound I was talking to Bald Guy today and I completely forgot where he went to college. Then he reminded me: He went to the University of Florida. As if this situation didn't suck enough right? That's when I realized just like my beloved Vols football squad, I got fucked in the ass by a Gator.
OK so it was Thursday night and I was just telling my roommate that I was going to take it easy when my friend Juka called out of the blue and asked me to go to a bar with her. She told me she was going to some bar called Double Deuce near University of Memphis and there was a SEVEN dollar cover for all the beer you could drink. Seven bucks for a slice of heaven? I don't even think I said goodbye I was out the door so fast. Marine Bob went with her and she brought some new friends I didn't know.
While we were drinking Marine Bob told me he saw the Lex Luther look-alike I had hooked up with at the Ole Miss game down the street. The guy's name was Joe and I called him Bald Guy because he shaves his head. He was funny and drank a lot so I texted him.
"Remember me? Come to Double Deuce." He replied within a few seconds that he would be right there. A man with no excuses. I liked him already. When he got there he knew all the people I was with and I asked Juka about him and she told me he was a "partier who slept with everyone'" and I liked him even more.
As one can imagine all of us end up OBLITERATED by midnight. And I ended up stepping out of the bar around 2am and I remember thinking that I have to quit going out like this on school nights because it makes work suck all that much more. But much like drinking and driving, sex without protection, and taking relationship advice from my friends…I had to learn things the hard way. As I got into my car, Bald Guy calls me and asks if he can meet me at my house. I told myself it's too late and I have to work in the morning, but then I thought I'm too young to be responsible and it's not like I'm old as my mom – or responsible for that matter. So I told him he could come over.
When he got there we were both so wasted there was a lot I don't remember, but one thing I'll never forget…
We had this really drunk, rough sex that last forever. I couldn't really tell if it was good or bad because I was so drunk, but he had an ENOURMOUS penis. I remember it was rough because I had to keep telling him that everything he touched was attached to my body. But then we were doing it doggy style for a while and all of a sudden I felt this sharp pain and the wind got knocked out me. You know when you are drunk you have such a slow reaction time? Well it was taking me a minute to realize what was happening. At first I thought maybe my head was slamming into the headboard too hard but then in my drunken stupor I realized that wasn't where the pain was coming from and right before Bald Guy thrusted in me one more time I realized what was going on and screamed:
"AAAAAAHHHHHHHH. THAT'S NOT RIGHT. THAT'S NOT RIGHT. WRONG WRONG WRONG PLACE. STOOOPPPPPP!!!!"
To put it bluntly, Bald guy was fucking me right in the ASS. Or in more discreet terms, he was overthrowing to the intended receiver worse than Jonathan Crompton on a third down conversion. When he stopped he apologized profusely and said it was an accident. He then tried to have sex in the correct orifice again and I yelled, NO NO NO NO. I literally was whimpering as I grabbed my blanket and curled up into a ball trying to ignore the exploding pain coming from my gluteus maximus.
Bald Guy: Can't we do it the regular way?
TCH: (whimper)
There was no way he or his Weapon of Mass Destruction was going near me for the rest of the night. Now I'm not a girl who is a major hater of Anal Sex, I mean, whatever floats your boat. But a surprise poke from behind minus any lubricant or mental preparation with a penis nicknamed Mount Everest was not justifiable anal sex. It was Ass Rape. He asked if we could just cuddle then and I spent the rest of the night being terrified of his penis and trying not to roll over so that he couln't spoon me. When I awoke to go to work too few hours later my entire body hurt. I knew it was because I was hungover and had such rough sex, but I pretty much forgot about my Ass Trauma. Then I said goodbye to Bald Guy and I got in my car. When I sat down pain shot throughout my body. Then the Accidental Anal incident all came back. I was reminded of that guy in American History X that couldn't walk or sit right after he got raped in prison. I spend the rest of the day sitting down with caution and two days later I was still a little sore.
I considered going to the doctor, but I found that too mortifying but I still had to discuss this with my friends. I told Joy because she is a good listener, my friend Goldilocks because I knew she had a huge fear of anything involving the butt, and Pigtails- the only other person who I can see something so horrible happening to. That Saturday I went with Bald Guy to the fair and he asked if I would go home with him after. I told him I was still a little sore from our incident and he didn't even remember. He thought it was kind of funny until he realized his mistake wouldn't get him laid again. So he said to make it up to me he would win me something at the fair. Right! Sorry, but a blow up balloon of a TeleTubby was not going to change the fact that I now know what it feels like to be someone's prison bitch.
Several guys have called me since but I don't want to go out with any of them, because I'm scared. I'm not gonna lie. I'm terrified of something like this happening again. I can just see myself in the hospital for accidental anal sex and having to explain everything to my mother and then her telling me no man will ever want to marry me now. How do I even file an insurance claim for that? Blunt trauma to the ass? So guys, I don't know when the next time I date will be. So my stories might get put on hold. And I'm not doing doggy style until I'm married.
And just to pour some salt on my wound I was talking to Bald Guy today and I completely forgot where he went to college. Then he reminded me: He went to the University of Florida. As if this situation didn't suck enough right? That's when I realized just like my beloved Vols football squad, I got fucked in the ass by a Gator.
THE SLUT QUIZ
THE SLUT QUIZ
Does anyone ever notice how girls jokingly call each other sluts nowdays? (i.e., "Hey, slut! What's up). Well since this word gets thrown around so much I thought that I should point out that there are some REAL sluts out there that wouldn't appreciate their moral ambiguity thought of so lightly. Therefore, I have written and formed a SLUT QUIZ to determine if you really are a slut or not. This is just like a quiz in Cosmo. If you answer YES to any of the statements below give yourself 1 POINT. At the end, total your points to determine how much of a dirty, nasty, semen receptical you really are.
The grading is as follows:
1 - 10 points : Go back to church, bitch.
11 - 20 points : You just drink too much.
Does anyone ever notice how girls jokingly call each other sluts nowdays? (i.e., "Hey, slut! What's up). Well since this word gets thrown around so much I thought that I should point out that there are some REAL sluts out there that wouldn't appreciate their moral ambiguity thought of so lightly. Therefore, I have written and formed a SLUT QUIZ to determine if you really are a slut or not. This is just like a quiz in Cosmo. If you answer YES to any of the statements below give yourself 1 POINT. At the end, total your points to determine how much of a dirty, nasty, semen receptical you really are.
The grading is as follows:
1 - 10 points : Go back to church, bitch.
11 - 20 points : You just drink too much.
21 - 35 points : You are a dirty whore.
36 - 50 points: You have herpes.
1. You might be a slut if you have to write down who you sleep with just so you can keep a record.
2. You might be a slut if you were to get preggers and have your friends pool on who the father is.
3. You might be a slut if you ever had sex with someone you picked up at Sassy Ann's. (or insert any trashy bar name)
4. You might be a slut if you ever had sex AT Sassy Ann's.
5. You might be a slut if you actually enjoy anal sex. ("it's not that bad after a while, guys"...yeah right, slut)
6. You might be a slut if you keep a large variety of condoms on the coffee table to offer your guest instead of candy.
7. You might be a slut if you have slept with three guys who have the same first name.
8. You might be a slut if you slept with three guys in one week.
9. You are a slut if you slept with three guys in one day...or if you think this is awesome.
10. You might be a slut if you and all your friends "share" at least one partner.
11. You might be a slut if you act at a crowded bar the same way little kids act when they see the ice cream truck.
12. You might be a slut if you plan on a divorce before you are planning on marriage.
13. You might be a slut if you have two boyfriends at once who don't know about each other and debate taking on a third. Sluts have special CIA-type skills for this.
14. You might be a slut when your roomate no longer ask the random guys at your place who they are.
15. You might be a slut if you use tallies to record sexual partners, and then put it on the living room wall for all to see.
16. You might be a slut if you associate with people that do this.
17. You might be a slut if you think it's funny when your friend gets a curable STD.
18. You might be a slut if alcohol is the only lubricant you ever need.
19. You might be a slut if you went to an officially ranked Party School.
20. You might be a slut if most of your friends are sluts. Sluts love each other.
21. You might be a slut when all it takes it a shot and some late night Krystal's for a guy to get some.
22. You might be a slut if you have made out with more people in a bar than in private.
23. You might be a slut if you don't just have one night stands, but you also have two-hour stands.
24. You might be a slut if you know what it means to get DP'd.
25. You might be a slut if you question whether or not one of your experiences was a foursome or a gang bang.
26. You might be a slut if you were doing it and called the guy the wrong name because you were legitimately confused and not because you were just thinking of someone else (the latter part is a very nonslut thing to do).
27. You might be a slut if you move 500 miles away you still run into people you slept with.
28. You might be a slut if you carry an overnight bag with you whenever you go out, just in case.
29. You might be a slut if you ever waited in line to give someone a lap dance.
30. You might be a slut if you mom or dad was a slut. Sluttery is in the blood.
31. You might be a slut if you lost your virginity at church camp.
32. You might be a slut if your boobs fall out of your shirt/dress...and you don't care.
33. You might be a slut if the rules to golf sound like your Satruday nights.
34. You might be a slut when you try to make your non-slut friends committ slut-like behavior.
35. You might be a slut when your favorite character on "Sex and the City" is Samantha. And you have her picture framed somewhere.
36. You might be a slut if you and your friends keep a jar of extra change and call it the "abortion emergency fund."
37. You might be slut if you aren't allowed to give blood for a year due to your sexual history.
38. You might be a slut if your most notorious dating story involves getting a money shot right to the face.
39. You might be a slut if you seriously cut off communication with a guy because of an unfortunate penis size.
40. You might be a slut if you don't refer to it as the Walk of Shame but the Stride of Pride.
41. You might be a slut when you don't have to make your bed all weekend because you haven't been home.
42. You might be a slut if you no longer read Cosmo magazine because you decided you already know all "365 ways to please a man."
43. You might be a slut if you not only forget people's names, but you forget the entire person
44. You might be a slut if your idea of fun on a weeknight is getting all your friends together, turning off the lights, and watching the pornographic film "Pirates." (no, I didn't make this up).
36 - 50 points: You have herpes.
1. You might be a slut if you have to write down who you sleep with just so you can keep a record.
2. You might be a slut if you were to get preggers and have your friends pool on who the father is.
3. You might be a slut if you ever had sex with someone you picked up at Sassy Ann's. (or insert any trashy bar name)
4. You might be a slut if you ever had sex AT Sassy Ann's.
5. You might be a slut if you actually enjoy anal sex. ("it's not that bad after a while, guys"...yeah right, slut)
6. You might be a slut if you keep a large variety of condoms on the coffee table to offer your guest instead of candy.
7. You might be a slut if you have slept with three guys who have the same first name.
8. You might be a slut if you slept with three guys in one week.
9. You are a slut if you slept with three guys in one day...or if you think this is awesome.
10. You might be a slut if you and all your friends "share" at least one partner.
11. You might be a slut if you act at a crowded bar the same way little kids act when they see the ice cream truck.
12. You might be a slut if you plan on a divorce before you are planning on marriage.
13. You might be a slut if you have two boyfriends at once who don't know about each other and debate taking on a third. Sluts have special CIA-type skills for this.
14. You might be a slut when your roomate no longer ask the random guys at your place who they are.
15. You might be a slut if you use tallies to record sexual partners, and then put it on the living room wall for all to see.
16. You might be a slut if you associate with people that do this.
17. You might be a slut if you think it's funny when your friend gets a curable STD.
18. You might be a slut if alcohol is the only lubricant you ever need.
19. You might be a slut if you went to an officially ranked Party School.
20. You might be a slut if most of your friends are sluts. Sluts love each other.
21. You might be a slut when all it takes it a shot and some late night Krystal's for a guy to get some.
22. You might be a slut if you have made out with more people in a bar than in private.
23. You might be a slut if you don't just have one night stands, but you also have two-hour stands.
24. You might be a slut if you know what it means to get DP'd.
25. You might be a slut if you question whether or not one of your experiences was a foursome or a gang bang.
26. You might be a slut if you were doing it and called the guy the wrong name because you were legitimately confused and not because you were just thinking of someone else (the latter part is a very nonslut thing to do).
27. You might be a slut if you move 500 miles away you still run into people you slept with.
28. You might be a slut if you carry an overnight bag with you whenever you go out, just in case.
29. You might be a slut if you ever waited in line to give someone a lap dance.
30. You might be a slut if you mom or dad was a slut. Sluttery is in the blood.
31. You might be a slut if you lost your virginity at church camp.
32. You might be a slut if your boobs fall out of your shirt/dress...and you don't care.
33. You might be a slut if the rules to golf sound like your Satruday nights.
34. You might be a slut when you try to make your non-slut friends committ slut-like behavior.
35. You might be a slut when your favorite character on "Sex and the City" is Samantha. And you have her picture framed somewhere.
36. You might be a slut if you and your friends keep a jar of extra change and call it the "abortion emergency fund."
37. You might be slut if you aren't allowed to give blood for a year due to your sexual history.
38. You might be a slut if your most notorious dating story involves getting a money shot right to the face.
39. You might be a slut if you seriously cut off communication with a guy because of an unfortunate penis size.
40. You might be a slut if you don't refer to it as the Walk of Shame but the Stride of Pride.
41. You might be a slut when you don't have to make your bed all weekend because you haven't been home.
42. You might be a slut if you no longer read Cosmo magazine because you decided you already know all "365 ways to please a man."
43. You might be a slut if you not only forget people's names, but you forget the entire person
44. You might be a slut if your idea of fun on a weeknight is getting all your friends together, turning off the lights, and watching the pornographic film "Pirates." (no, I didn't make this up).
45. You might be a slut if reading this list turns you on.
46. You might be a slut if your first date involves a morning trip to the drugstore for a Morning After Pill.
47. You might be a slut if your friends have sword fights with dildos.
48.You might be a slut if you have seen a porn featuring a young lady with lightening bolts pointing toward her genetalia.
49. You might be a slut if you are truly upset and/or ashamed that you only ranked in the "dirty whore" category and didn't make it all the way to "you have herpes."
50. You might be a slut if nothing mentioned here offends you.
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