Archive for the ‘ Friends ’ Category

One Year

It’s been a year that we’ve been at this relationship advice thing. Swear on my gin that I didn’t think we’d make it six weeks. I told more than one person I’d play along for 3 months and by then The Dreamer would be on to her next project or I’d be sick of hanging out with chicks. I’ll be honest; I max out my threshold for chick bullshit regularly. My patience for anyone else’s estrogen inspired crazy is nearly nonexistent hence the reason I surround myself with a lot of dicks.

So yeah, one year; I’ve even learned some things:

  1. If I can’t wait to get to happy hour, happy hour is probably the last thing I need. (Shots!)
  2. If I have no desire to go to happy hour, it is probably exactly what I need.
  3. I love a One Night Stand as much as the next Go to Girl, but I prefer our Booty Calls; they know how we like it.
  4. We suck at taking our own relationship advice.
  5. We excel at taking our own sex advice. (Cock karaoke rocks!)
  6. To everyone’s amazement, I really enjoy hanging out with these women. Obviously, they’re hot, but also because they are whip-ass smart, hysterical, and bring zero drama to the party.
  7. Even more amazing, they’re still hanging out with me. I’m not saying they enjoy it, I’m just saying it’s still happening.
  8. Wine drinking gloves are necessary
Advertisements

Birthdays. A Lot of Them.

This weekend we had three birthdays to celebrate. Friday was a nerd theme costume party in honor of a friend’s 40th. We didn’t dress up, we just weren’t really feeling the costume thing. We had a great time regardless, however, we left before things got too crazy because there was COD to be poorly played, and I had a date with Luke Wilson and Vince Vaughn. “Now he’s crushing ass every Thursday night at our mixers.”

Saturday we celebrated WMFS birthday at Prairie Bar & Grill where another friend was throwing her Under the Sea 30th birthday prom. Again, we skipped the prom attire but had a damn good time anyway. A damn good time! At one point the lights went down and a friend instinctively took advantage of the dark and grabbed my boob. That guy, he’s a funny one. If there were bleachers I would’ve taken him under them to really get into the prom theme if you know what I mean.

And I danced.

I’ll let that sink in for a second.

Yes me! I danced. And not just once because the Prom Queen pulled me out there for the first song. No I danced my uncoordinated white ass off people. To many songs. At one point I looked around and everyone except “Summer” was dancing. He’s so lame.

My favorite quotes from the weekend:

“You close your eyes and look at this!”

“It’s not a lap dance until somebody gets herpes.”

“Woah, that’s a lot of material.”

“That girl looks like she has low self-esteem, go hit on her.”

“Oh, I cheated on you. What? This is a big deal?”

 

 

Kinda sums up the night.

What About Bob

You guys, I cannot believe I forgot to tell you about Bob. Last Wednesday two of the other Go to Girls and I were at Shanahan’s earlier than the rest of the group so we had the pleasure of meeting Bob.

The Dreamer, The Girl Next Door and I are enjoying our first beverage of the night when Bob stumbled past us on his way out for a cigarette. I’d say Bob is oh… about 102 years old. He staggered his drunk ass back to our table (the big round one for those in the know) and leaned in to pay us a compliment “you ladiesh are haaat. Don’t lesh anyone in here tell you (bobble), tell you diff’ent.”  Hearing a drunken 102 year old man use the word hot in that sense was actually pretty hysterical. We thanked him and he returned to his original task of smoking. But of course, he had to come back in which meant he had to pass our table again. This time we learned that he’s regular, this piece of information made the three of us stare blankly at each other for a moment because, um…we’re pretty damned regular and had never seen this character before in our lives. But whatever, Bob’s a regular. We went about our business for a while and then it was time for another smoke break. Of course he stopped by our table again, and this time he had and offer he was sure we couldn’t refuse. “I live with my daughter and watch my grandson mosh days exchept Wednesdays. How about we go back there and have a foursome?”

What? The? Fuck?

Naturally this cracked us up; we just got asked by a 102 year old drunk guy to be in a foursome. Now that’s a first! And fuckin’ funny!

But then I started thinking, wait? He’s old and drunk, so of course we look good to him. Er, could this be why reasonably aged, mildly buzzed guys don’t hit on us??! Are we that wrecked? Oh hell. This just took a turn from funny to depressing. I ordered another the glass of wine so I could drink until we were cute.

Bob stumbled back in, apparently while he was smoking he came up with a better idea, “ladiesh, my gran’shon is probably home so inshted wish one of you is taking (wobble), taking meee home wishyoo?” I briefly contemplated ways I could just off myself; unfortunately I’m not McGuiver and could not figure out how to do it with a ketchup jar, napkin holder, and Tabasco bottle. While Bob’s proposition was again funny and depressing, it was getting old, we had some serious official Happy Hour Hot Topics business to get to and Bob was impeding our progress.

Fortunately the rest of the group started filtering in and Bob found himself a distraction with a game of pool so we had an hour or so to tackle the serious business of doling out relationship advice. We solved some rather complicated problems for people. What?! “Do guys notice a stray hair…” is complicated. Shut up.

Anyway, Bob made one more appearance at the table, our gentlemanly One Night Stand made himself more useful than most of them and dismissed Bob. But Bob wasn’t having it; he made his way to our side of the table, pointed at our One Night Stand and slurred “he doshen’t have a clue. He doeshen’t even know” like we all shared some connection and secret.

Bob left; I hit the lady’s room, returned and ordered another class of wine because I still hadn’t managed to drink until we were as hot as Bob believed us to be.

How to Lose Your Mind In Three Easy Steps

  1. Lose wallet.
  2. Fall into wormhole of DMV vs. credit union vs. common fucking sense.
  3. Do this on the most cheese whiz of holidays.

I completely forgot that yesterday was Valentine’s Day until I hit Facebook late yesterday afternoon. For one, celebration of this holiday is usually avoided. We tried celebrating one year; WMFS made a whip ass lobster dinner that ended romantically  with The BFF calling because another friend had just been pulled over for DUI. We scrambled to find pants in order to rescue the friend if necessary and pick-up The BFF  at Charlie’s. Only to arrive and find he had also called his ex-girl friend, who seemed about as pleased as we were to find him 3 shots deep at the bar. Happy VD to us all!

The other time we acknowledged the holiday was to specifically not celebrate it as The BFF decided to have a poorly timed third date with a crazy he met on Match. Somehow this crazy convinced me to attend his soccer game with her because she didn’t want to look crazy sitting by herself. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that it wasn’t attending the soccer game, it was that she was already asking him to drive to Montana with her that made her certifiable. After the game, three of us headed to Charlie’s; guess who didn’t show up for the first hour of hell? The BFF. Instead WMFS and I sat there and listened to her ramble about how he could be the one and depending on where it goes she would move out of Portland and transfer to her company’s Vancouver location. The following month (cuckoo!). Although I have to give The BFF credit…we got her drunk, listened to the crazy and then he showed up, took her home and nailed her. Kinda brilliant.

Nothing can top those two Valentine’s day adventures so I see no reason to try. I stuffed my food hole with homemade Pho, wine, and Trazadone. And it was glorious.

I hope that however you chose to celebrate the holiday it was worth it!. Because let’s be honest, Valentine’s Day is actually about banging lonely sluts, or trading sappy cards and shiny bling for the elusive BJ. You’re always on one end of that transaction if you’re celebrating Valentine’s Day!

XOXOXO

I’m Alive! Mostly.

Holy shit you guys last week was insane. Monday I spent recovering from the Super Bowl, which mostly entailed lounging around watching more Black Ops and then finally dragging it to Shanahan’s for food around 3:00 pm. I’m high-class people.

I am so glad I took Monday off, but not for the original reason of damage control, oh no, I am so glad I had the day off because the rest of the week was an awesomely awesome ass kicking thanks to what I affectionately refer to as our Company Love In. The Company Love In was a 3 day meeting spread over 4 days that included a lot of idea sharing and warm fuzzy togetherness. Wednesday was casino night so brilliantly I asked the Go to Girls to meet in the hotel bar so I could bounce back and forth between HHHT and work shenanigans. And although I didn’t contribute much to the answers that night, I think my contribution of some delicious eye candy in the form of a couple single coworkers bought me a pass for the week. Thursday was my contribution to the love in, The Talent(less) Show. People! This show rocked like I had no fucking idea it would. It came together so well, the talent was hysterical and genuine and just fucking awesome. My master of ceremonies can do no wrong in my eyes at the moment, he was amazing, and totally born to play that part.  People are talking about the next one, but there is no way to follow that show up with another one so for next year I’ll have to have something completely different but equally awesome. The wheels are turning and will be greased repeatedly with wine until the best idea ever is concocted.

I followed that up with a Friday night at Shanahan’s and a spur of the moment trip to a strip club with a cast of characters that probably didn’t belong in a strip club.  We had one person that is on the fence about strip clubs because her boyfriends ex was a stripper. Yes I said ex, as in before he knew her. But to hear her talk about it, you’d think he dated a stripper to intentionally cause problems in a future relationship he had no clue would exist. Add to that we had an employer taking her 21-year-old assistant out. You can see where this is going, we’ve got fresh meat for the boys, a possible couples argument, and definitely a sexual harassment lawsuit. Man, do we know how to have fun!

Saturday was even more random with a stop at Main Event for dinner and then an impromptu meeting with The BFF’s cousins. People we went to Oscars and I will never again give that place another dollar. The bartenders are the cuntiest cunts I’ve ever come across and the owner has the decency of a child molester. I got kicked out for trying to pay my tab, I’m not even kidding. A member of our entourage got x-ed and escorted out. WMFS asked for our tab, 10 minutes later we still don’t have it and so I ask for it. The cuntenders are seriously just standing their talking to each other. I said excuse me we need our tab and the 1st cuntender responded with “I GOT FIREBALL SPLASHED IN MY EYES!” with flailing arms and all sorts of drama. I responded “Why is that stopping her from pushing buttons and getting me my tab?” Immediately they were both signaling to the bouncers that I was to be kicked out. I’m still not speaking to WMFS because his dumb ass tipped them more than he tips our regular awesome bartenders in an asinine attempt to smooth things over. We were already kicked out? How was that going to help? Arrrggggg!

We walked to Irish Town for another round, headed to Shari’s for some food and then called a cab. The last time I had my wallet was in the cab. I’m still waiting to hear back…I’ve called three times and the one person that can get into the safe hasn’t shown up for work yet. The dispatcher has been really nice but I’m not impress with the fact that someone with the ability to do shit for a customer isn’t available. Garrrrrrhhhh!

Edited to add: My wallet is gone. This is officially the shittiest Monday in a very long time.

My Weekend in Six Hundred+ Words

Well you guys, I didn’t forget how to drink while abstaining in January. I believe I killed all but two brain cells this weekend and they are apparently still a tad tipsy because I cannot recall for the life of me what we did Friday night. I know there was alcohol involved and that I did not sleep at home, but the details on how that came to be completely escape me right now.

Saturday we went to the Seafood & Wine Festival. Do not let the name fool you, the seafood portion of the festival is incredibly lacking. The best food vendor by far is Canby Asparagus Farm. Their tamales are legendary. Their tamales are not seafood. However, what the Seafood & Wine Fest lacks in food from any water source, it makes up for in wine and random vendors that have no business being at a festival of this nature. Examples: Amazing Siding and Windows and Scentsy. I know people get drunk and buy stupid shit (I got a new hat!) so Scentsy kind of makes sense, but I have never once gotten wasted and thought “You know what we need? Some fucking siding!” I hope I never do.

I made a deal that if I didn’t have to drive to Portland I would navigate us home, therefore I only enjoyed two glasses of wine. And while this may seem a little sad seeing as how it was a festival about wine, I also didn’t fall and I wasn’t the one to shout a little too loudly in the vicinity of a non-pregnant woman “no way that one is pregnant!” so at least there was a silver lining.

I then navigated us straight to Club 205. OHMYGOD I just remembered what we did Friday!! Jesus. More on that later.

So anyway, Club 205, I did too many shots, received a lap dance and then poured the four of us in a cab. Good times! At what was to be our final destination, The Instigator decided that he and WMFS were nowhere near done for the night so they took another cab out to downtown Vancouver. The Instigator got cut off at Main Event by a rogue bouncer with a power trip and a Sharpie. I’m so sorry I missed that.

So back to Friday! I remember! We went to Tom’s Pizza and I had my first Tanquerey and Tonic of the year. It was so good I had 2 more and followed those up with 2 doubles at Shanahan’s. Needless to say, I didn’t drive home. Instead we headed to The BFF’s so the boys could play Black Ops. On the way there we learned that a Volvo S40 can do 110-115 miles an hour and you barely even notice! Amazing!

Note to anyone that may ever drive me and WMFS home: Let WMFS ride shotgun. He’ll give you wise advice such as, “maybe doing 110 down SR-14 isn’t a great idea right now”. I on the other hand will screech at you “LET’S JUMP IT!”

As you can imagine I felt awesome on Saturday morning.

Sunday was obviously the Super Bowl Party. I had barely made it in the door at 2:00 before I was handed a shot of whipped vodka. I finally stopped drinking and passed out around 4:00 am.

I think we finally made it to Shany’s for food around 2 Monday afternoon. Oh the conversations we have hung over/getting re-buzzed. A few of my favorites:

He’d keel over while putting and I’d choke on his tongue while trying to resuscitate him.

Thank god they only give vaginas to people qualified to operate one. If you had one you’d stuff everything in there. No I do not look at random objects and wonder if I should put it in my vag or not.

New holiday! The day after Super Bowl will now be known as Vagina Stuffing Day!

I hope you all enjoyed your weekend and had a great Vagina Stuffing Day!

Someone Please Stage an Intervention

Look, I need some serious help. I had cold gin and vodka as well as wine at my disposal last night and I… um, well…the first step is admitting you have a problem right?

OK, here goes.

I didn’t drink any of it.

I KNOW! I DON’T EVEN KNOW ME EITHER!!!

Thirty-one days without an adult beverage. The first thirty made me want to junk-punch newborn babies, but yesterday was a whole new hell; it was voluntary. It was wrong.

Truth be told, I’m intimidated by the hang over that I am all but guaranteed when that first drink hits my lips. My head is actually throbbing just thinking about it. Speaking of headaches; I took ibuprofen exactly once in January. Not only did Shanahan’s loose a chunk of revenue, so did Pfizer. It is clearly my obligation to society to get off this damned wagon and do my part to stimulate the economy again via gin and over the counter pain relief!

So tonight at Happy Hour Hot Topics, I’m taking the first step in my (and the economy’s) recovery. Who’s with me? Who is going to come out tonight and hold my hand? And possibly my hair.