10 Things Being A Blackout Drunk Has Taught Me

February 5, 2013 § 5 Comments

  1. You can’t take back the shit you don’t remember saying. And there’s a strong possibility it was some pretty messed up shit. 
  2. It’s really hard to not fall down in 4 inch heels.
  3. I am officially “too old for this shit”.
  4. If you puke in the cab, that cabbie will come after you.
  5. There’s a chance you might die. (This is something I make sure to remind myself before I leave the house.)
  6. It’s a waste of time to worry about what other people think of you.
  7. Making friends with total strangers isn’t always a bad thing but sometimes, its a very bad thing. 
  8. Last night’s impromptu dance party, is next week’s ‘lying about how I got this black eye’.
  9. 90% of my time is spent suppressing my crazy, 3% is spent humiliating myself and 7% is spent formulating a strategy for redemption.* 
  10. I am ‘that girl’.

I Make Little To No Effort To Take Care Of Myself:








*Not accounted for is approximately .025% spent picking up my credit card from the bar the next day.

Scooter Girl Of Your Dreams

January 18, 2013 § 6 Comments

I become overly attached to inanimate objects. Which doesn’t mean I dry hump blow-up dolls.* But it does mean that I love things that don’t love me back. I’ll get to the point – today I am saddened because I am selling my beloved scooter (that I rode approximately one time).

If you are fascinated by history then you will love this story. This is a story about how terrible things can happen to perfectly wonderful people. It all started four years ago when I was living in Chicago.

I decided I wanted a scooter more than anything else in the world. And that very same day I found myself at a scooter dealership purchasing a two-tone baby I named, Shirley.

One immediately curious thing you should note here is, I am a terrible driver but I thought since I’d look so god-darn cute riding one the situation would eventually remedy itself.

After the deal was finalized, the salesman gave me a very brieft tutorial on how to drive a scooter. I had never been on one before but he insisted it was a “no-brainer”. So my flipflop wearing ass hopped right on.

I hit the gas but the power and speed spooked me. So what did I do next? What any human would do. I screamed like a bitch and held on tighter.

If you know anything about scooters you’d know that the gas is located on the handlebar. And since its very counterintuitive to let go of something you are deathly afraid of falling off, I proceeded to hold on for dear life, which only caused me to go faster.

Suddenly a parked Mercedes came out of nowhere and I had no choice but to abandon ship. I flew off, sending my scooter skidding along the asphalt stopping only a few inches from the Merc.

In the aftermath, I gave a quick friendly wave to the child inside who had apparently been left, windows cracked, to wait for his parents and retrieved my flipflop from under the vehicle. Shirley on the other hand went straight to the shop.

A super sweet bonus to all this, was a rather large rug burn up my thigh.

Not long after, Shirley was back in action. Good as new. Only I was still in full wuss mode. But believing this was temporary I had my sweet baby Shirley shipped with me for the move to Cali.

Now four years later, its pretty clear I’m not going to be coming around anytime soon. So its time to say good-bye. Good-bye Shirley, remember that one time? Yeah, good times.

Perhaps I’m a dreamer but I had some romantic notion that one day I’d take Shirley out for a spin and die.

But I guess that’s just not my destiny.

If You Love Something Set It Free:









*I can not believe you clicked on that link, pervert.

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