As one can infer from the title, this took place at a Halloween Party.
My old roommates, Pigtails and Tits Magee, used to throw a majestic Halloween Party every year at our apartment. While I lived there also, I never took part in preparing or inviting guests so I don’t want to steal their spotlight since they always threw one hell of a party.
This one epic year they had the party with the help of our utterly, insane yet fabulous neighbors who opened their doors to everyone. Our apt was in Knoxville and we lived next to these three chicks who were single and all loved to drink and hook up with randoms. Naturally, we all got along famously. The craziest of the three is someone I call Big Country because of her accent and her huge personality (which I mean both literally and by the size of her tits). The second time I ever hung out with her we went to Cool Beans bar and as I sipped my cranberry and vodka she came barreling over to me with four shots, took them, forced me to take one, and grabbed my hand and said exactly, “Let’s go find some dick.”
TCH: You can’t be serious?
Two hours later we had five gentlemen walk us home because we were drunk from all the booze we conned them out of getting us and they promised they would protect us from all the deranged rapists that undoubtedly lurked in the three blocks of college housing that we walked through to get home. When we arrived at our apartments she told all the guys she would show her boobs if they whipped out their penises. They all did so she did. She then took the one with the biggest into her apartment and made fun of the guy with the smallest penis. She later kicked out the guy she hooked up with and made him walk home in the cold – and she stole his jacket. This is Big Country. You don’t forget her.
At this particular Halloween party I decided to be original and put a bed sheet with three holes in it over my head and called myself a ghost. When the sheet got annoying I just dressed like a slut like everyone else. All my friends were typical- Pigtails was a slutty sailor, Joy was a slutty candy corn (wtf), Big Country was a slutty smurf. The sole exception was Tits Magee who dressed up like Jesse Spano from Saved by the Bell, complete with her Hot Sundae band workout wear and a bottle of caffeine pills. But Tits is still a slut in real life so it really made no difference.
Around 500 guests must have come to that party. We had several kegs. At one point this guy dressed up like a nun was giving one of the beer handlers (some dudes we knew) some trouble. He was being an ass about something – I never knew what. So Pigtails boyfriend told him to leave. This should have been over, but then Swayze in his infinite fucking wisdom, punched the Mother Theresa in the back of the head for being a douche. Swayze’s little brother, Little Swayze, got between them to stop a fight but the Nun was furious and said he was coming back and bringing some friends.
Well, true to Catholicism, the Nun kept his word. He came back with several guys, one of the guys, who was dressed like Conan the destroyer, was obviously sober and thought this was the lamest idea ever. This was apparent when he donated five bucks to us to get a cup.
But the Nun starts up the stairway with his friends headed for our apartment on the balcony and people start talking shit. People I didn’t even know and I lived there. Then the Nun and his friends start talking back and then there is some pushing and shoving. Little Swayze and Flagpole eventually got everyone calmed down and smoothed it over and they are about to leave. Then Pigtails, retardedly drunk, yells at the Nun, “HAHA! Yeah leave LOSER!” and pushes him in the back of the head while he is walking down the stairs.
Not looking at anything the Nun comes out swinging and clocks Pigtails right in the face, spilling her beer. Chaos ensued.
A brutal fight was then had between the Nun, one of his friends, and the majority of guys at the party, probably some girls too (I mean, our neighbors are from the mountains of East Tennessee and all of them probably have hand gun permits. It wouldn’t have surprised me to see them throwing some punches). I saw beer fly, weapons made from garbage cans, costume parts, and jack-o-lanterns. Someone knocked out a guy with a pumpkin.
About 11 minutes later the brawl on our balcony steps died down and Flagpole and Little Swayze tried to calm everyone down again even though Swayze was still in it trying to take cheap shots. As the losers of the battle walked away people at our apartment started yelling things and throwing beer at them. It was a true walk of shame. When they got to the bottom level they were flipping everyone off. Then in his moment of grandeur, the Nun bent over and mooned everyone watching. But just as he did Big Country (all-smurfed out) comes running by and kicks him on the ass. He then falls over and she runs away with a standing ovation from the crowd.
Many of us tried to get everyone to settle down. Some exchange students lived across from us and we didn’t want them to call the police. We just called them “the Asians” and they spoke very little English. Plus, they were already terrified of us (I can’t imagine why).
Later that night I was so drunk I couldn’t see straight. And we were all trying to go to bed or hookup in the bathroom (i.e. Swayze and some random skank) and my date for the evening said he couldn’t stay because he had to take his friend home. His friend was this brilliant little Asian kid from Med school and he had like three wine coolers and was so drunk he couldn’t move. I told him his friend could just sleep on our living room floor – he didn’t even know where he was. Plus, my date was hot and I was drunk. I have needs.
Of course, I didn’t tell my roommates my plans for the sleeping Asian so Tits Magee saw him and drug his unconscious body outside and laid him on the porch. A few hours later in the wee morning, Big Country came home from wherever she was catting around at and saw the little guy in front of our door. She then picked up all 80 pounds of him and banged on the Asians door and when they opened it, she threw the unconscious Asian inside and said, “I think you lost something.”
She would only find out days later, that the said Asian didn’t live there. I have no idea how that kid got home or even if he survived the night. Big Country just thought this was funny. Every time she saw the Asians after this, they ran from her.
About a month later, I was dating this new guy I met at "wing night." He and his friend and I were out talking the effects of alcohol or something intellectual.
His friend eventually said, “Man I went to this Halloween party and it was nuts. There were all these slutty girls there for one. And they were all drunk and falling down and then some asshole punches this Nun in the face and then the nun punches one of the sluts in the head. Then there was this huge brawl and the nun got totally jacked. There was blood all over the balcony. It was crazy. One of the wildest things I’d ever seen.” (Apparently he didn't recognize me."
My new boyfriend: See this is what I am talking about. Look what alcohol does to people. I bet those girls wouldn’t be so slutty and started a fight if everyone was just social drinking and not trying to get extremely drunk!
I had no comment. My new boyfriend and I didn’t work out. Go figure.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Friday, July 9, 2010
Tetanus Vagina - The Musical
I know I should’ve written this sooner, but I have a really good excuse this time. See I recently found out I get the Lifetime Movie Network so I had to space out and watch such classics as No One Would Tell, where D.J. Tanner from Full House gets abused in her high school relationship by the kid from “The Wonder Years.” No, I’m not kidding. This movie is real.
But, as many people know. I recently attended a lake party at my friend Flagpole’s. And almost instantly, things got ridiculous.
The first night of the weekend everyone became wildly intoxicated and decided to run down to the lake behind Flagpole’s house and go skinny dipping. This means that all the girls put on bathing suits and all the guys got naked. By the time I walked down there the water looked like Dick Soup.
Meanwhile, I was distracted because my friend ShitShow was throwing potatoes at me.
TCH: Stop that, Shitshow! You are Irish! Your ancestors risked their lives for those potatoes!!
She then proceeded to eat the said potatoes and dance all by herself. But then she began to drunk text and tried to drive to Nashville so I kept having to hide her phone. In spite of her dumb ideas that evening, she did have a good one: to start a facebook group called, “I hooked up with Swayze.” She and half the people there had slept with him, so I thought it was a grand idea. She hooked up with him during a football game I took her to. Grizz walked in on them, after which he said they immediately stopped screwing and laid face down on the bed. Like he was a T-Rex and if they didn’t move, he somehow wouldn’t see them. WTF?
Another one of Swayze’s ex-girlfriends, Dubbs, was at Flagpole’s lake party and decided to take her top off. The only time I had met Dubbs is when she was dating Swayze and cried at a party. I hate bitches who cry at parties and bars. Of course, I do it, but only if when they run out of whiskey…which has happened.
But as she was running around topless she stops to joke around with my naked guy friend, Grizz. Grizz proceeds to throw her top in the water, after which it was never seen again. And then he pulls a dick move and knocks her in the water. Literally, he thrusted his cock against her until she fell in the water. It was funny until I heard screaming – then it was hilarious. Because Dubbs suddenly screamed:
“I SLIT MY VAGINA!....and IT’S BLEEDIN!!"
Apparently, she fell on a rope connected to the dock and cut herself. Everyone in the water was a bit frazzled, but then there was seriousness. And Dubbs continued to yell about her slit genitalia and how it was bleeding.
“OMG!! It HURTS,” yelled Dubbs. “MY VAGINA! My LEG!!”
Finally, this hot chick with a cast on her leg dived in the water and carried Dubbs to safety while all the men stood around naked and watched. I don’t know who that girl was, but I’m going to guess she was a freshman in college due to the attractiveness of her body. College hadn’t damaged it yet. Cast-girl laid Dubbs on the ground and Grizz picked her up and ran, or tried to run, her back into the house.
The sight of Grizz, butt-naked, trying to run, with his meat sword flopping in the night sky, while he carried a naked, bleeding, wet girl up a hill in the moonlight is probably burned in my memory forever.
I followed them into the house with Joy because she was a nurse. I have a theory, that at every good party, a bitch must have her moment. Well, this was that moment. Dubbs was wailing and when Joy ever so sweetly tried to help she threw some pills at her. She refused to see Joy because she said she needed an ER nurse. This made no sense because Joy is an ER nurse.
Then Joy and I observed her wounds, which amounted to several bad scratches. When Joy politely made the recommendation that she didn’t need to go to the ER because it wasn’t that bad, Dubbs replied, “You aren’t a doctor! I could die.”
It was all very dramatic. And since my friends are assholes, she was ripe for reaping. People then offered her drugs and free sex to ease her pain. And of course, every man there asked to see her vagina. She then called her Dad to come and get her.
Upon seeing this fiasco, Flagpole drunkenly typed his first legal document which stated word-for-word the following:
I, Dubbs
Do Hear Bye agree that the actions of Flagpole or the Flagpole household did not causse harm or danger to any of my persons.
And then there was a line for her to sign. Several people then debated IN FRONT OF HER who will force her to sign it. Finally, her father came and miraculously she got up and marched to the door in spite of “breaking her legs and vagina.” Several people screamed, “It’s a miracle!!”
Then to make her party appearance even more grand before she stepped out the door, she turned back to everyone at the party and thrusted her waist out and yelled, “Suck it” to us all. Classiest exit I ever witnessed. Tits Magee even applauded.
Almost on que, Shitshow walked up to me after the door slammed and said, “Man, she is no longer allowed to be in our facebook group.”
Later that weekend, Tits Magee got a brilliant idea for some of us to get together and start a white, yuppie rap group. And our first single would be dedicated to that evening and called, “Slit Vag.”
The lyrics will go something like this:
“Swayze got to many dumb hos
They get they vaginas cut on the ropes
They just was into his jew fro
Grizz is a huge prick, with a huge dick,
He be knocking hoes in the water with it.
The be getting cut
Cos’ they got big buts
Need quit being a slut.
They be bleedin’ bleedin’
They be bleedin’ bleedin’”
Poetic, I know. But the funniest thing of all is that you could seriously turn on a rap radio station and find lyrics with same amount of thought put into them.
UPDATE: Dubbs and her private areas are fine. She merely received a tetanus shot, a dose of humility, and a loss of respect, but she is now in good health. Or so I have heard.
But, as many people know. I recently attended a lake party at my friend Flagpole’s. And almost instantly, things got ridiculous.
The first night of the weekend everyone became wildly intoxicated and decided to run down to the lake behind Flagpole’s house and go skinny dipping. This means that all the girls put on bathing suits and all the guys got naked. By the time I walked down there the water looked like Dick Soup.
Meanwhile, I was distracted because my friend ShitShow was throwing potatoes at me.
TCH: Stop that, Shitshow! You are Irish! Your ancestors risked their lives for those potatoes!!
She then proceeded to eat the said potatoes and dance all by herself. But then she began to drunk text and tried to drive to Nashville so I kept having to hide her phone. In spite of her dumb ideas that evening, she did have a good one: to start a facebook group called, “I hooked up with Swayze.” She and half the people there had slept with him, so I thought it was a grand idea. She hooked up with him during a football game I took her to. Grizz walked in on them, after which he said they immediately stopped screwing and laid face down on the bed. Like he was a T-Rex and if they didn’t move, he somehow wouldn’t see them. WTF?
Another one of Swayze’s ex-girlfriends, Dubbs, was at Flagpole’s lake party and decided to take her top off. The only time I had met Dubbs is when she was dating Swayze and cried at a party. I hate bitches who cry at parties and bars. Of course, I do it, but only if when they run out of whiskey…which has happened.
But as she was running around topless she stops to joke around with my naked guy friend, Grizz. Grizz proceeds to throw her top in the water, after which it was never seen again. And then he pulls a dick move and knocks her in the water. Literally, he thrusted his cock against her until she fell in the water. It was funny until I heard screaming – then it was hilarious. Because Dubbs suddenly screamed:
“I SLIT MY VAGINA!....and IT’S BLEEDIN!!"
Apparently, she fell on a rope connected to the dock and cut herself. Everyone in the water was a bit frazzled, but then there was seriousness. And Dubbs continued to yell about her slit genitalia and how it was bleeding.
“OMG!! It HURTS,” yelled Dubbs. “MY VAGINA! My LEG!!”
Finally, this hot chick with a cast on her leg dived in the water and carried Dubbs to safety while all the men stood around naked and watched. I don’t know who that girl was, but I’m going to guess she was a freshman in college due to the attractiveness of her body. College hadn’t damaged it yet. Cast-girl laid Dubbs on the ground and Grizz picked her up and ran, or tried to run, her back into the house.
The sight of Grizz, butt-naked, trying to run, with his meat sword flopping in the night sky, while he carried a naked, bleeding, wet girl up a hill in the moonlight is probably burned in my memory forever.
I followed them into the house with Joy because she was a nurse. I have a theory, that at every good party, a bitch must have her moment. Well, this was that moment. Dubbs was wailing and when Joy ever so sweetly tried to help she threw some pills at her. She refused to see Joy because she said she needed an ER nurse. This made no sense because Joy is an ER nurse.
Then Joy and I observed her wounds, which amounted to several bad scratches. When Joy politely made the recommendation that she didn’t need to go to the ER because it wasn’t that bad, Dubbs replied, “You aren’t a doctor! I could die.”
It was all very dramatic. And since my friends are assholes, she was ripe for reaping. People then offered her drugs and free sex to ease her pain. And of course, every man there asked to see her vagina. She then called her Dad to come and get her.
Upon seeing this fiasco, Flagpole drunkenly typed his first legal document which stated word-for-word the following:
I, Dubbs
Do Hear Bye agree that the actions of Flagpole or the Flagpole household did not causse harm or danger to any of my persons.
And then there was a line for her to sign. Several people then debated IN FRONT OF HER who will force her to sign it. Finally, her father came and miraculously she got up and marched to the door in spite of “breaking her legs and vagina.” Several people screamed, “It’s a miracle!!”
Then to make her party appearance even more grand before she stepped out the door, she turned back to everyone at the party and thrusted her waist out and yelled, “Suck it” to us all. Classiest exit I ever witnessed. Tits Magee even applauded.
Almost on que, Shitshow walked up to me after the door slammed and said, “Man, she is no longer allowed to be in our facebook group.”
Later that weekend, Tits Magee got a brilliant idea for some of us to get together and start a white, yuppie rap group. And our first single would be dedicated to that evening and called, “Slit Vag.”
The lyrics will go something like this:
“Swayze got to many dumb hos
They get they vaginas cut on the ropes
They just was into his jew fro
Grizz is a huge prick, with a huge dick,
He be knocking hoes in the water with it.
The be getting cut
Cos’ they got big buts
Need quit being a slut.
They be bleedin’ bleedin’
They be bleedin’ bleedin’”
Poetic, I know. But the funniest thing of all is that you could seriously turn on a rap radio station and find lyrics with same amount of thought put into them.
UPDATE: Dubbs and her private areas are fine. She merely received a tetanus shot, a dose of humility, and a loss of respect, but she is now in good health. Or so I have heard.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
The Grandest Walk of Shame of Them All
This is dedicated to all walks of shame everywhere.
I have had a walk of shame or two in my time. But one of my college friends had the most epic. So legendary, that most people don't even believe me when I tell them. I don't know how to prove that it is true, other than asking all people associated with the incident what went down. So just take my word for it.
Like so many great stories, this one starts with a bottle of tequila. My friend and coworker, Kamasutra Katie, and I were knocking back shots at this house party some of our coworkers at the newspaper were having. We wrote for this underground paper for UT called the Hangover. Aptly put, I know.
After slamming way too many shots the night got real blurry fast. I vaguely remember Kamasutra Katie trying to walk on the keg as it rolled in the grass and proceeding to land on her face. I also remember her stripping and lip-syncing to some of the Beatles early hits. My boyfriend at the time was mad at me for something I am sure I deserved and left me there so I caught a ride home from some nice strangers at the party who bought me Taco Bell. I love being drunk in college: you meet your best friend or your worst enemy on every street corner.
I was then told I ended up passed out on my front porch by my roommates who drug me in my room, but first they took pictures, in true friend fashion of course. I woke up on my bedroom floor naked to a phone call from Kamasutra Katie. I KID YOU NOT, THIS IS THE CONVERSATION VERBATIM:
KAMASUTRA KATIE: Dude, where the fuck am I?
TCH: How should I know, I left you at the house party.
KAMASUTRA KATIE: Oh man, I just woke up naked in a bathtub. And I have no idea whose house this is.
TCH: Well...shit.
KAMASUTRA KATIE: Where the fuck are my clothes? I literally just have a towel on. I can't leave like this.
TCH: I'm too hungover for this shit.
KAMASUTRA KATIE: Call you back. (click)
You don't forget a convo like that. Kamasutra Katie told me later what she did next. She wrapped a towel around her, searched through the unknown house for her clothes and after giving up decided to take a Walk of Shame back to her dorm. In absolutely nothing but a towel. She said the house was somewhat close to her dorm, fortunately. However, on the way back she had to pass the Church Ministry Row and saw a campus tour. I am glad she is doing her part to encourage students to attend the University of Tennessee. At least she is hot and representing us well.
It has been determined by witnesses at the party that Kamasutra Katie began to vomit on herself sometime after I left and some of her guy friends took her clothes off and put her in the shower. Then they got drunk and forgot and left her there. No big deal, these things happen.
But to this day, no matter how many Strides of Pride I commit or bear witness to, I have yet to see a bitch in a towel. Although, my friend Juka once came close when she walked home in boxers to my house and got the cops called on her for creepin' through some bushes, but that is another story. Today, Kamasutra Katie is a reporter for the society page of a newspaper. I love life's irony.
I have had a walk of shame or two in my time. But one of my college friends had the most epic. So legendary, that most people don't even believe me when I tell them. I don't know how to prove that it is true, other than asking all people associated with the incident what went down. So just take my word for it.
Like so many great stories, this one starts with a bottle of tequila. My friend and coworker, Kamasutra Katie, and I were knocking back shots at this house party some of our coworkers at the newspaper were having. We wrote for this underground paper for UT called the Hangover. Aptly put, I know.
After slamming way too many shots the night got real blurry fast. I vaguely remember Kamasutra Katie trying to walk on the keg as it rolled in the grass and proceeding to land on her face. I also remember her stripping and lip-syncing to some of the Beatles early hits. My boyfriend at the time was mad at me for something I am sure I deserved and left me there so I caught a ride home from some nice strangers at the party who bought me Taco Bell. I love being drunk in college: you meet your best friend or your worst enemy on every street corner.
I was then told I ended up passed out on my front porch by my roommates who drug me in my room, but first they took pictures, in true friend fashion of course. I woke up on my bedroom floor naked to a phone call from Kamasutra Katie. I KID YOU NOT, THIS IS THE CONVERSATION VERBATIM:
KAMASUTRA KATIE: Dude, where the fuck am I?
TCH: How should I know, I left you at the house party.
KAMASUTRA KATIE: Oh man, I just woke up naked in a bathtub. And I have no idea whose house this is.
TCH: Well...shit.
KAMASUTRA KATIE: Where the fuck are my clothes? I literally just have a towel on. I can't leave like this.
TCH: I'm too hungover for this shit.
KAMASUTRA KATIE: Call you back. (click)
You don't forget a convo like that. Kamasutra Katie told me later what she did next. She wrapped a towel around her, searched through the unknown house for her clothes and after giving up decided to take a Walk of Shame back to her dorm. In absolutely nothing but a towel. She said the house was somewhat close to her dorm, fortunately. However, on the way back she had to pass the Church Ministry Row and saw a campus tour. I am glad she is doing her part to encourage students to attend the University of Tennessee. At least she is hot and representing us well.
It has been determined by witnesses at the party that Kamasutra Katie began to vomit on herself sometime after I left and some of her guy friends took her clothes off and put her in the shower. Then they got drunk and forgot and left her there. No big deal, these things happen.
But to this day, no matter how many Strides of Pride I commit or bear witness to, I have yet to see a bitch in a towel. Although, my friend Juka once came close when she walked home in boxers to my house and got the cops called on her for creepin' through some bushes, but that is another story. Today, Kamasutra Katie is a reporter for the society page of a newspaper. I love life's irony.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
TCH Gets Tased
So I know I make bad decisions on impulse all the time, but this time really takes the cake. For the newspaper, I went to the Police Training academy to see the trainees being prepared for their roles as police officers and undercover work.
Now, if you read the first sentence of this, you already know this story is bad news bears. I mix with cops as well as I do with Tea Party ralliers. But everyone was entertained by my smart ass comments involving meth busts so we all got along. However, at the end, the trainees got tased by a taser gun. After watching this my curious little monkey head got to thinking. So I VOLUNTEERED myself for the cops to tase me. VOLUNTEERED! The cop doing the tasing was so amused with me he agreed to do it, so long as I put it in the paper and commented on what it is like to be tased. So I signed a waiver and went to the bathroom (because apparently some people cannot control their bodies and piss themselves like drunks when electrocuted, crazy).
After that I put on one of the MPD t-shirts and these two cops held on to my arms so I didn't flail. Then I got shot in the back with a taser gun....don't do this. What happened upon my being, not only purposely, but voluntarily electrocuted by a man was not fun at all. I screamed FUCK at the top of my lungs and fell to my knees instantly. It felt like getting shocked 1,000 times, which is exactly what is going on so that makes sense. But I couldn't move my body at all and my head was about explode. It was like having knives stabbing you in the back and having the pain spread, but it was all internal. It was like a hit to my soul. It was like I got hit by Eric Berry... It was kind of like an orgasm in reverse.
Someone took pictures of this and I asked them to send them to me. I will post them for all to see when they come in. They have to be hilarious. I was screaming and falling on the ground like drunk sorority slut during formal. I think I have a welt too. But they let me keep the shirt that said Police Department. I will do anything for a free t-shirt.
Bottom line: you don't want to be tased. Just like drinking and driving, sex without protection and taking relationship advice from my friends, this is one more lesson I had to learn the hard way.
Now, if you read the first sentence of this, you already know this story is bad news bears. I mix with cops as well as I do with Tea Party ralliers. But everyone was entertained by my smart ass comments involving meth busts so we all got along. However, at the end, the trainees got tased by a taser gun. After watching this my curious little monkey head got to thinking. So I VOLUNTEERED myself for the cops to tase me. VOLUNTEERED! The cop doing the tasing was so amused with me he agreed to do it, so long as I put it in the paper and commented on what it is like to be tased. So I signed a waiver and went to the bathroom (because apparently some people cannot control their bodies and piss themselves like drunks when electrocuted, crazy).
After that I put on one of the MPD t-shirts and these two cops held on to my arms so I didn't flail. Then I got shot in the back with a taser gun....don't do this. What happened upon my being, not only purposely, but voluntarily electrocuted by a man was not fun at all. I screamed FUCK at the top of my lungs and fell to my knees instantly. It felt like getting shocked 1,000 times, which is exactly what is going on so that makes sense. But I couldn't move my body at all and my head was about explode. It was like having knives stabbing you in the back and having the pain spread, but it was all internal. It was like a hit to my soul. It was like I got hit by Eric Berry... It was kind of like an orgasm in reverse.
Someone took pictures of this and I asked them to send them to me. I will post them for all to see when they come in. They have to be hilarious. I was screaming and falling on the ground like drunk sorority slut during formal. I think I have a welt too. But they let me keep the shirt that said Police Department. I will do anything for a free t-shirt.
Bottom line: you don't want to be tased. Just like drinking and driving, sex without protection and taking relationship advice from my friends, this is one more lesson I had to learn the hard way.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Mother's Day...with class
In the grand tradition of little brothers everywhere, mine is a little shit. The one time he does something positive, he still manages to to do it the worst, stupidest way possible. So Mother's Day is coming up and I was thrilled to find out Little Brother got our mom a gift already. I went to his place to meet up with him and see what he got her. The following conversation ensued:
Little Brother: I went to Brookstone and got her this mini-massager. Since she is always sore and stuff. It's like a little neck massager.
TCH: What? You have to be kidding me. You got our mom a vibrator for Mother's Day?
LITTLE BROTHER: It's not a vibrator! You are so perverted! It is a mini-massager.
TCH: What the hell does that mean? Those are vibrators you, ass hat! Women don't use those for their sore necks or arms or whatever! Haven't you ever seen an episode of Sex and the City?
LITTLE BROTHER: You are ridiculous and sick. It's a massager! And it was Buy-one-get-one-free. It was a good deal.
TCH: Oh man, I gotta see this.
He then pulls out the mini-massagers from a bag. One is pink and the other is blue - his and hers vibrating pleasure machines, if you will. They were even in a phallic shape. I picked both of them up from their boxes with each hand and held them like I was skiing. This is what it must feel like to be in a threesome porn. I was almost ready for one to blast me in the eye. Not vibrators, my ass.
TCH: I don't believe this! It's suppose to be a family-friendly holiday and you got our 60 year old mother a vibrator!
LITTLE BROTHER: It massages you! It says so!
I looked at the box and it just said to press a button for intensity and apply to certain areas where vibrations are needed...I'm not even going to go there....too easy.
LITTLE BROTHER: Women don't use these for vibrators! You just hang around sluts!
TCH: That is true but I know from Cosmo, television and from going to a Twilight bookclub meeting for Twimoms that women use these as vibrators and that is it, you idiot. You don't even know any women!
LITTLE BROTHER: Whatever. I don't believe you.
In all fairness and because my brother is an arrogant bastard like all youngest children, I would like to put this debate to a vote. Below I have included a picture of the said "mini-massager" and I have posted a poll (located in the upper-right corner). Voting is anonymous so feel free to cast your vote without judgement. But if you think this penis-shaped, vibrating, pleasure provider is used to actually massage women's necks then feel free to agree with my brother. And feel free to be wrong.
Little Brother: I went to Brookstone and got her this mini-massager. Since she is always sore and stuff. It's like a little neck massager.
TCH: What? You have to be kidding me. You got our mom a vibrator for Mother's Day?
LITTLE BROTHER: It's not a vibrator! You are so perverted! It is a mini-massager.
TCH: What the hell does that mean? Those are vibrators you, ass hat! Women don't use those for their sore necks or arms or whatever! Haven't you ever seen an episode of Sex and the City?
LITTLE BROTHER: You are ridiculous and sick. It's a massager! And it was Buy-one-get-one-free. It was a good deal.
TCH: Oh man, I gotta see this.
He then pulls out the mini-massagers from a bag. One is pink and the other is blue - his and hers vibrating pleasure machines, if you will. They were even in a phallic shape. I picked both of them up from their boxes with each hand and held them like I was skiing. This is what it must feel like to be in a threesome porn. I was almost ready for one to blast me in the eye. Not vibrators, my ass.
TCH: I don't believe this! It's suppose to be a family-friendly holiday and you got our 60 year old mother a vibrator!
LITTLE BROTHER: It massages you! It says so!
I looked at the box and it just said to press a button for intensity and apply to certain areas where vibrations are needed...I'm not even going to go there....too easy.
LITTLE BROTHER: Women don't use these for vibrators! You just hang around sluts!
TCH: That is true but I know from Cosmo, television and from going to a Twilight bookclub meeting for Twimoms that women use these as vibrators and that is it, you idiot. You don't even know any women!
LITTLE BROTHER: Whatever. I don't believe you.
In all fairness and because my brother is an arrogant bastard like all youngest children, I would like to put this debate to a vote. Below I have included a picture of the said "mini-massager" and I have posted a poll (located in the upper-right corner). Voting is anonymous so feel free to cast your vote without judgement. But if you think this penis-shaped, vibrating, pleasure provider is used to actually massage women's necks then feel free to agree with my brother. And feel free to be wrong.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Waffle House and Tit Cakes don't mix with Sobriety
Author’s Note: I was sober through this entire ordeal.
I always said I would try to lose weight when I could no longer score free drinks at a bar. This time occurred in college, after taking the “freshman 15” to new levels, so I went on a serious diet. Because we live in a cruel world, alcohol is loaded with calories, thus my drinking was cut back to only Adult weekends (College weekends begin on Wednesday) and mostly consisted of rum. Life was hard. I didn’t even break for special celebrations because in college there was always some damn Columbus Day of a reason to celebrate with alcohol. Therefore, on the night of Golden Jew’s 22nd birthday I was able to witness all of my friends in their own drunken glory through the purest of eyes.
The night began in the jubilant land of Wine Night (for a more detailed description of this weekly festivus see The Worst Hangover of My Life). Golden Jew was celebrating by having a nice dinner with friends (meaning getting slammed with each other as opposed to a party) which included myself, my roommate Tits Magee, Goldilocks, Pigtails, Hot Mess and my best guy friends Swayze and Flagpole. Because we all enjoyed acting like a perverted version of a family, Hot Mess baked him a cake. Of course the cake she baked was shaped like giants titties that she purchased on one of our impromptu roadtrips to a sex store in Kentucky (don’t ask). Props to Hot Mess because the Tit Cake looked awesome! After Golden Jew molested it we all decided to bar hop around the Strip near the university after Wine Night. There is immediate drama when the drinking begins per usual.
This fuck rag I commonly refer to as Jailboy was present at Wine Night and he was wasted. He was only there because he was stalking Goldilocks. Like a dumbass she was nice to him and led him on out of the goodness of her heart but mostly it was because of the great depth of her low self esteem that can only be achieved by really pretty girls. He hated me and all of Goldilock’s friends because we are awesome and he sucked. At the bar, she was talking to her current suitor Long Hair. No, he isn’t Native American, he just had long hair. And Jailboy called her a slut or something so I immediately called him a prick in her defense, but then he got in my face. Well, he was like 5’6 so he kinda got in my face.
Jailboy: You got something to say to me?
I was about to yell but remembering he was white trash and might hit me I turned around to see if my friends had my back. Tits Magee was sitting in her usual spot chain-smoking and not about to take the energetic five steps to defend me. Goldilocks was pretending nothing was going on to impress Long Hair. Golden Jew was raucously laughing to himself and probably wanted to see me get hit for his entertainment. Swayze was schmoozing with some bitch with a dyke haircut. Pigtails and Hot Mess were simultaneously performing lap dances on Flagpole and completely oblivious to anything but making him blush. Fuck my friends. I could take this guy.
TCH: Actually, yes, I do. I hate you. Please get the fuck out of this bar because it is for people who are smart enough to go to colleges not online. You are mean to my friend and you aren’t even hot! So walk the fuck home! (He didn’t have a car. Naturally).
Jailboy: fuck you fat, cunt, ugly, whore, shitty, bitch, scraggly…blah.
This went on for a hot minute. And just as Swayze was about to come over and punch him in the face, Jailboy tripped over a chair, spilled wine all over himself, and got kicked out of the bar, sparing him any last bit of dignity. Goldilocks felt bad because that guy was mean to me (I think so) but I just told her it was ok, we all slum it in college, and this Long Hair boy better treat her nicer.
After Wine Night we headed to the Skankiest Bar in America because they had a dance floor and my friends love looking stupid in public. However, this endeavor lasted about five minutes because Pigtails and Hot Mess were swinging around these polls like strippers and falling down on their asses and consequently showing all their goodies to every creeper there, which got us immediately kicked out. But then we went to the Greatest College Bar Ever and the dancing continued. The falling and flashing strangers continued but we never got kicked out because we were on a first name basis with the bartenders, this being the Greatest College Bar Ever and all. However, travesty struck when Pigtails, Hot Mess and Tits Magee decided to do shots. Rough enough when one does them, but all three and it’s Bad News Bears. First off, Pigtails was forbidden by all of us to drink liquor due to an unfortunate birthday assault where she tried to kill some people. She was only allowed ONE shot per night thereafter or we learned she would turn into something violent and evil. Kind of like a gremlin.
The guys were no better. I went to the bathroom and got a picture text from Goldilocks’ phone of her in some lingerie. Knowing there is shadiness afoot I see Goldi scamming Long Hair at the bar for drinks and Golden Jew was the sole person at our table, giggling uncontrollably. I confronted him.
TCH: You are an asshole for sending that from her phone.
Golden Jew: I only sent it to you.
Flagpole (walks up): Why would Goldilocks send me a text of her in underwear?
I just glared at Golden Jew who found this even more hysterical. Then Tits Magee came up and complained about how her tits are too big for her shirt so she just pulled her shirt below her boobs, exposing her orange bra. She would walk around like this for the rest of the evening. Following suit Hot Mess came up to dance/hump the guys at our table when, out of the corner of my eye, I see some creeper reach up her dress. I then realize this is just Golden Jew as he rips her thong out, which she proceeds to swirl around her head and yell, “VICTORY!”
When we leave this bar and walk home everyone had to chase around Pigtails who was in her own level of drunk. She had no shoes on for some reason and kept falling down but would hit anyone who touched her. Flagpole was the main one chasing her down for safety but he got distracted when Hot Mess’s dress strap broke, which made the top part fall down so that she was running around in her bra and not much else, thong in hand. When the cops drove by Flagpole used his body to hide her nudity. What a gentleman. By this time Pigtails had ran away somewhere so I had to search for her for like an hour only to find her in a dark alley passed out among dirt, broken glass and probably the DNA of many a rapist. When I drug her into my apartment a security guard knocked on my door to tell me we “lost one.” And that Hot Mess was passed out in the bushes.
When Pigtails was contained and calm, Goldilocks ditched us for Long Hair and I tried to get to sleep but singing awaked me in my living room. I went in there to find Flagpole, Golden Jew and Tits Magee with their arms locked front to back singing “My Heart Will Go On” at the top of their lungs. I yelled and told them to shut the fuck up because I had class and they just laughed at me because no one respects a drunken slut trying to be responsible. So I gave up on sleep unlike Swayze who was passed out on the couch. Flagpole and Golden Jew decided to draw on him since his shoes were on and it was only fair. They wrote the word “DICK” across his forehead and drew a huge penis on the side of his face with semen droplets shooting into his mouth. Didn’t I meet the classiest people in college? Then, in a moment of brilliance, Golden Jew suggested a trip to Waffle House and gets Swayze up to go with us. When the six of us got to Waffle House there were only college aged people there and one table saw Swayze’s face and immediately started yelling out, “DICKHEAD! DICKHEAD!” but they were shushed by us. Our waitress, Catangela, looked at Swayze and gasped, “Oh, honey child!” but Tits Magee got her to be quiet too and Catangela called us “foolish folk.”
Eventually Pigtails felt bad for Swayze because random patrons kept coming to our table to take pictures of him, laugh and call him Dickhead. So she takes him to the bathroom to wash the marker off his face. He then drunkenly, figured out what was going on so he barreled out of the bathroom yelling obscenities at all of us.
Swayze: You MOTHERFUCKERS I am gonna KILL you. ASSHOLES! You guys crossed a line! Tonight in your sleep I am going to slap each one of you in the face with my DICK!
Naturally, the angry outburst sent everyone into fits of hysteria. The guy at the next table was peeved at our loud and childish behavior and asked us to be civilized and we told Catangela to which she responded, “Civilized? At the Waffle House?” A few minutes later, Pigtails came back from the bathroom and told me she made out with Flagpole while she was in there. Nothing like love blossoming in the bathroom stalls of Waffle House.
The next morning there was a panic when no one could find Flagpole. I was worried that he had been kidnapped, or got in a drunken accident and was hurt, or worst of all, hooked up with Pigtails. But when she hadn’t seen him either I figured we could treat our friend like a lost dog and if he didn’t show up by sundown then we could post some flyers with his picture on them asking, “have you seen this man?” But he turned up asleep in the spare bedroom of my apartment that he somehow broke into the night before. When I called to tell Golden Jew I had found him, Golden Jew told me he just got done talking with Goldilocks and her night with Long Hair.
TCH: That is great! He seems a lot more respectable than that other loser who liked her.
Golden Jew: Ha! Last night Long Hair came on her face!
TCH: What? What the hell? How does that even come up in conversation?
Golden Jew: He did it like a porn star! She didn’t even know that makes her a dirty whore now. Not as dirty as Tits Magee, but still. HAHA! But she still thinks he respects her. She said she is coming to your place and we are all going to have a serious discussion about what this means for her relationship.
TCH: Seriously?
Golden Jew: Of course.
That was the day I quit my sobriety. With friends who get together for reasons like this, it is best to drink heavily and drink often.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
TCH Establishes Nightly Rate
So this one notorious evening I once had recently came back to haunt me. And no, I didn't find out I had an STD. But I ran into this guy in memphis the other day when I was with my mother and spent an hour hiding in the self-help section of a bookstore trying to avoid him. when you hear what I did you will know why.
A few weeks after I got canned from my last job I decided to go back to school in Knoxville. So my last weekend in Memphis had to be left in true TCH style. I remember it was football season and my Vols just got their asses kicked by Florida in the Swamp once again so I was already drunk and not looking to go out because I was mad (see why I am depressed). But my friends Amanda and Jennifer were going out to a karaoke bar and some guys were going so I decided to go for a little bit. One can imagine how this turned out. First, I'm wearing some Vols clothes and people talk shit all night because this bar is near University of Memphis which, as I have found, is full of haters so I get riled up early on. Then Amanda gets this brilliant (read: terrible) idea to start doing shots of some kind of blue shit which of course tastes awesome so I have like 200 of them. Then Jennifer brings some of her guy friends to the bar. Amanda and Jennifer both have boyfriends so I love hanging out with them because they are always passing guys my way. I have the greatest friends. Both of Jennifer's friends are tall and cute (at the time anyway) and I immediately tell her that. But then the cuter one, who looks like Roy from The Office, has to ruin it by speaking, like so many men do.
ROY : Sorry we had to beat you guys today. (looking at my Vols shirt)
TCH: Oh, did you go to Florida?
ROY: No.
TCH: Are you from Florida?
ROY : No.
TCH: You ever been to Florida?
ROY: Not really.
TCH: Then why do you even like them?
ROY: Oh, I just always liked them ever since I was a little kid, my dad was a fan too.
TCH: Aren't you like 30?
ROY: I'm 34
TCH: (completely trashed) Florida didn't even have a team when you were a kid! They couldn't hack it to save their lives. The only people that could sprint through a field were the damn Cubans trying to avoid border patrol and elderly Jewish women in their cadillacs!!
ROY: But they won today!
TCH: I hope a hurricaine blows that school away and it's fans get eaten by alligators in the floods.
ROY who will now be referred to as Mr. Douche, is laughing at my animosity. I look at his friend, who is also cute and has some nice arms in his t-shirt.
NICE ARMS: I'm a huge UT fan!
...and done.
Since I am billigerent at this point and so are my friends I wander around the bar and socialize. I make friends with everyone except for people who want to talk about sports. Now, there are two things TCH never does at bar: Karaoke and Dancing. I love karaoke bars, but I don't ever participate. I can humiliate myself in public without a microphone all the time. And I don't dance because dancing is stupid. I never understood the point and never do it so I am probably bad at it. But on this magical evening I was doing both. Or so I was told. However, after completing what I am sure was a glorious rendition of Summer Nights with a new friend I met, someone once again made a crack about the Vols losing. So then in my microphone I call the guy a number of obscenities ranging from "a bandwagon pussy" to a "cunt muscle" and that it wasn't my fault he couldn't get into college. I didn't know that guy, but I know he didn't go to Florida. Someone took my microphone and everything was blurry. Jennifer then tells me I got us kicked out so we had to go home. She then tells me that Mr. Douche wants to hook up with me really badly and I tell her he doesn't have a shot in hell. Outside in the parking lot he confronts me.
MR. DOUCHE: You don't want to make out or anything? You told Jennifer I was cute!
TCH: Sorry. I don't fuck Florida fans.
MR. DOUCHE: You can't be serious.
TCH: ...
Don't say I'm not a real fan. I then grab his friend NICE ARMS to come with me. And MR. Douche tries to cockblock because he is a douche and likes Florida. I really do give my ALL to the Vols.
I got back to NICE ARMS' house and was way too wasted to be there. I realize this when I throw up and pass out on the bathroom floor. However, he is completely trashed too and cares not. I finally get up and put my game face on and THEN hook up with him on the couch. I hardly remember anything. He said after we finished screwing around he passed out on the couch and I spent like 2 hours watching the movie The Mist on the Sci-Fi channel. I've never even heard of that movie. So that part was fuzzy to me but I do remember getting up still terribly inebriated and looking around the house at things. I looked at his medicines and then googled them on the internet to see what he was taking, none of which I specifically remember. Then I looked in his closet to see if he really had any Vols clothes to show his fandom (he did) and while I was in there I saw this gigantic bucket of change. It was a bucket from this popular bar on Beale St. that I remember because of its beer drinking goat and these huge buckets of alcohol. This bucket was filled to the brim with change. Now, don't ask me why I did this. I've never stolen anything in my life but for some reason in my drunken stupor I picked up that huge bucket with two hands and ran, butt-naked, out to my car and put it in the backseat. Good thing it was 4am or the neighbors would have gotten a show. I then went inside his house and slept in his bed that he wasn't even in. The next day he woke me up and we ate some breakfast and talked a little and then politely exchanged phone numbers like we would actually call each other and I left. I completely forgot that I had stolen that huge bucket of change hidden under that backseat. It was until weeks later that I discovered it when cleaning out my car.
I felt so guilty I thought about giving it back, but then I realized that would make me look insane so I decided to just keep it. It was just change anyway. One of my friends eventually convinced me to take it to Coinstar to cash it in and see how much change was in there. So I casually took it one day. You can imagine my suprise when I cashed it in and the total amount of change was $352.47!!!!
And with that, I just established my rate for a one night stand. I'd like to think of it as karma. I did the right thing by going home with the Vol fan and not the Florida fan, therefore I was rewarded. In some twisted fucked up way, it was a gift. Pure TCH karma.
A few weeks after I got canned from my last job I decided to go back to school in Knoxville. So my last weekend in Memphis had to be left in true TCH style. I remember it was football season and my Vols just got their asses kicked by Florida in the Swamp once again so I was already drunk and not looking to go out because I was mad (see why I am depressed). But my friends Amanda and Jennifer were going out to a karaoke bar and some guys were going so I decided to go for a little bit. One can imagine how this turned out. First, I'm wearing some Vols clothes and people talk shit all night because this bar is near University of Memphis which, as I have found, is full of haters so I get riled up early on. Then Amanda gets this brilliant (read: terrible) idea to start doing shots of some kind of blue shit which of course tastes awesome so I have like 200 of them. Then Jennifer brings some of her guy friends to the bar. Amanda and Jennifer both have boyfriends so I love hanging out with them because they are always passing guys my way. I have the greatest friends. Both of Jennifer's friends are tall and cute (at the time anyway) and I immediately tell her that. But then the cuter one, who looks like Roy from The Office, has to ruin it by speaking, like so many men do.
ROY : Sorry we had to beat you guys today. (looking at my Vols shirt)
TCH: Oh, did you go to Florida?
ROY: No.
TCH: Are you from Florida?
ROY : No.
TCH: You ever been to Florida?
ROY: Not really.
TCH: Then why do you even like them?
ROY: Oh, I just always liked them ever since I was a little kid, my dad was a fan too.
TCH: Aren't you like 30?
ROY: I'm 34
TCH: (completely trashed) Florida didn't even have a team when you were a kid! They couldn't hack it to save their lives. The only people that could sprint through a field were the damn Cubans trying to avoid border patrol and elderly Jewish women in their cadillacs!!
ROY: But they won today!
TCH: I hope a hurricaine blows that school away and it's fans get eaten by alligators in the floods.
ROY who will now be referred to as Mr. Douche, is laughing at my animosity. I look at his friend, who is also cute and has some nice arms in his t-shirt.
NICE ARMS: I'm a huge UT fan!
...and done.
Since I am billigerent at this point and so are my friends I wander around the bar and socialize. I make friends with everyone except for people who want to talk about sports. Now, there are two things TCH never does at bar: Karaoke and Dancing. I love karaoke bars, but I don't ever participate. I can humiliate myself in public without a microphone all the time. And I don't dance because dancing is stupid. I never understood the point and never do it so I am probably bad at it. But on this magical evening I was doing both. Or so I was told. However, after completing what I am sure was a glorious rendition of Summer Nights with a new friend I met, someone once again made a crack about the Vols losing. So then in my microphone I call the guy a number of obscenities ranging from "a bandwagon pussy" to a "cunt muscle" and that it wasn't my fault he couldn't get into college. I didn't know that guy, but I know he didn't go to Florida. Someone took my microphone and everything was blurry. Jennifer then tells me I got us kicked out so we had to go home. She then tells me that Mr. Douche wants to hook up with me really badly and I tell her he doesn't have a shot in hell. Outside in the parking lot he confronts me.
MR. DOUCHE: You don't want to make out or anything? You told Jennifer I was cute!
TCH: Sorry. I don't fuck Florida fans.
MR. DOUCHE: You can't be serious.
TCH: ...
Don't say I'm not a real fan. I then grab his friend NICE ARMS to come with me. And MR. Douche tries to cockblock because he is a douche and likes Florida. I really do give my ALL to the Vols.
I got back to NICE ARMS' house and was way too wasted to be there. I realize this when I throw up and pass out on the bathroom floor. However, he is completely trashed too and cares not. I finally get up and put my game face on and THEN hook up with him on the couch. I hardly remember anything. He said after we finished screwing around he passed out on the couch and I spent like 2 hours watching the movie The Mist on the Sci-Fi channel. I've never even heard of that movie. So that part was fuzzy to me but I do remember getting up still terribly inebriated and looking around the house at things. I looked at his medicines and then googled them on the internet to see what he was taking, none of which I specifically remember. Then I looked in his closet to see if he really had any Vols clothes to show his fandom (he did) and while I was in there I saw this gigantic bucket of change. It was a bucket from this popular bar on Beale St. that I remember because of its beer drinking goat and these huge buckets of alcohol. This bucket was filled to the brim with change. Now, don't ask me why I did this. I've never stolen anything in my life but for some reason in my drunken stupor I picked up that huge bucket with two hands and ran, butt-naked, out to my car and put it in the backseat. Good thing it was 4am or the neighbors would have gotten a show. I then went inside his house and slept in his bed that he wasn't even in. The next day he woke me up and we ate some breakfast and talked a little and then politely exchanged phone numbers like we would actually call each other and I left. I completely forgot that I had stolen that huge bucket of change hidden under that backseat. It was until weeks later that I discovered it when cleaning out my car.
I felt so guilty I thought about giving it back, but then I realized that would make me look insane so I decided to just keep it. It was just change anyway. One of my friends eventually convinced me to take it to Coinstar to cash it in and see how much change was in there. So I casually took it one day. You can imagine my suprise when I cashed it in and the total amount of change was $352.47!!!!
And with that, I just established my rate for a one night stand. I'd like to think of it as karma. I did the right thing by going home with the Vol fan and not the Florida fan, therefore I was rewarded. In some twisted fucked up way, it was a gift. Pure TCH karma.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
