I found this out today.
See how it makes you feel. Especially if you were in elementary and middle school during the years opf 1989-1994.
Friday, April 28, 2006
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Fun with iChat
I thought this was funny. It's what happens when people keep talking to you on IM and you've left.........but they still keep typing.
I especially love it when guys bitch about how they can't get girls. It makes me feel better about myself and my own inability to attract the better members of the male gender.
I especially love it when guys bitch about how they can't get girls. It makes me feel better about myself and my own inability to attract the better members of the male gender.
New Photos
I finally put up new pics on my Flickr page. They are all beautiful and great and show what fun times I have ith my fun friends.
Awesome.
Awesome.
Some new rules for the new guys
I've decided that since men cannot simply read my mind, I'm going to have to lay down a couple of very specific rules the next time I start dating someone.
The most important rule is this and I'll put it out there on the third date or perhaps after the second time we have sex:
Brandy: "You're so much fun. I'm having a really good time with you."
Prospect: "You're fun too. I'm glad we're sleeping together."
Brandy: "There is something I'd like to say though. And I'm not trying to say that you've done it or anything but I'd like to just go ahead and lay it on the table."
Prospect: "What's that?"
Brandy: "It's about phone calls. I'm not a big phone caller. But when I do make phone calls or send a text message, I just want you to know that I'll delete you from my phone and my life if my calls and/or texts aren't returned within 5 hours."
Prospect: "Don't you think that's a little harsh?"
Brandy: "That's my rule. If I can find the time to take 5 seconds to write a text that says 'Hi I'm busy call you later' instead of just not calling at all, you can too. Not calling means you don't want to sleep with me anymore. And since I'm hot it will be pretty easy to move on to the next guy who will call on time."
Prospect: "Sounds fair. And I would like to keep sleeping with you. Within 5 hours it is."
So any potential mates out there, go ahead and take note. Save us both some trouble and time.
The most important rule is this and I'll put it out there on the third date or perhaps after the second time we have sex:
Brandy: "You're so much fun. I'm having a really good time with you."
Prospect: "You're fun too. I'm glad we're sleeping together."
Brandy: "There is something I'd like to say though. And I'm not trying to say that you've done it or anything but I'd like to just go ahead and lay it on the table."
Prospect: "What's that?"
Brandy: "It's about phone calls. I'm not a big phone caller. But when I do make phone calls or send a text message, I just want you to know that I'll delete you from my phone and my life if my calls and/or texts aren't returned within 5 hours."
Prospect: "Don't you think that's a little harsh?"
Brandy: "That's my rule. If I can find the time to take 5 seconds to write a text that says 'Hi I'm busy call you later' instead of just not calling at all, you can too. Not calling means you don't want to sleep with me anymore. And since I'm hot it will be pretty easy to move on to the next guy who will call on time."
Prospect: "Sounds fair. And I would like to keep sleeping with you. Within 5 hours it is."
So any potential mates out there, go ahead and take note. Save us both some trouble and time.
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
New Glasses
New Glasses
Originally uploaded by marchsun.
If this picture doesn't make you smile, hell can have you.
NO!!!! (But maybe?)
BAD IDEA YOU GUYS!!!
REALLY REALLY BAD IDEA!!
Just so you guys know, this is a really bad idea. But I'd definitely like to see this "first fruit" happen. Especially if it's ONLY released on a MIXTAPE.
Guys I've Dated
Time for another installment of Guys I've Dated. This was supposed to be a weekly thing but we've all seen how busy work has been. I also think that perhaps I should change the title to "Guys I've Made Out With" since I'm not really the "dating" type.
Today's guy I'll call Rick.
I met Rick last summer. And by "met," I mean, "saw in a comedy show and thought he was cute."
So I see him at a comedy show and I think to myself, "Adorable. Gotta have it." We left the show and I immediately hit up Google when I got home. Lucky for me, this cutie had a web presence which included a personal webpage complete with an EMAIL ME link.
So I did.
In fact, because I have Gmail and everything always gets saved, I can actually reprint the email that started the whole fiasco.
So of course it's only natural when you receive random emails from strangers to reply with this:
Needless to say these little emails continued for a week or two. During this time I went to one of his shows but didn't say anything to him. I made my friends stand with me at the door to the bar after the show was over. He came out to have a cigarette. As he was going back in he passed
me and did the double take I was waiting for. I left then, loving every minute of this mystery persona thing I had going on. I finally talked to him a couple of weeks after the first correspondence. I was completely inebriated (as usual) but holding myself together splendidly. More drinks were had and phone numbers were exchanged. I was feeling good.
Two weeks later I saw him again. And once again, I was at his show. Afterwards we sat around and chatted as one by one, people began to take their leave.
"What are you doing after this?" he asks me.
"I don't know, what are you doing?" I ask back.
"I don't know," he replies.
"You want to go and do some karaoke?" (The best thing about New York is that karaoke is available 24/7)
"No.....but I will come back to your apartment and make out with you."
"Sounds like a plan."
So we went back to my place.
I spare you the intimate details but the long and short of it is this: I saw this man randomly, decided that I wanted to hit that, and I did. Was is amazing? Not quite the word I'd use. But it was fun and small penis aside, we did hook up a few more times.
It ended (kind of) one night when he called me to let me know that he "just wanted to get this out there". I was never interested in having him as a boyfriend, but I could have done with a makeout buddy for another couple of months.
After we weren't making out anymore I began to notice that he was doing a lot of TV commercials. And every time any of my friends would see him in a commercial I'd get a phone call to commemorate the event. This went on until the fall when I decided that the next person to call with a "Oh my god I just saw Rick on that commercial" message would have a fatal meeting with the sharp end of my switchblade.
We actually ended up hooking it up again recently. I happened to wander into a bar and he was there and asked if he could give me a ring. A ring turned into a text which turned into a 1am booty call at my place.
I saw him last week at a party. We're always nice to one another but there's always that uncomfortable undertone whenever we speak. I suppose that's what happens when one's only knowledge of someone only extends to their naked bodies and you have no idea what his middle name or hometown is.
***Here's another funny fact that I'll mention here since I'm not using real names:
At one point, things were getting hot and heavy, Rick was standing above me on the bed. He says to me, "Suck my dick."
I tried not to laugh. When a man with a penis like Rick's says, "Suck my dick," I can't help but want to say,
"Listen buddy, I don't mind giving you a blowjob but if you're going to ask me you're going to need to say, 'Please ma'am, would you mind putting my wee-wee in your mouth for a minute or so?'"
Guys here's a tip: You're only allowed to tell a woman to suck your dick if it can actually be considered a dick, and not a "it stopped growing when i was twelve" penis. A dick can fuck without having to have my ass propped up on pillows.
***NOTE: if you don't like strong language you probably shouldn't have read the last part of this post.
Today's guy I'll call Rick.
I met Rick last summer. And by "met," I mean, "saw in a comedy show and thought he was cute."
So I see him at a comedy show and I think to myself, "Adorable. Gotta have it." We left the show and I immediately hit up Google when I got home. Lucky for me, this cutie had a web presence which included a personal webpage complete with an EMAIL ME link.
So I did.
In fact, because I have Gmail and everything always gets saved, I can actually reprint the email that started the whole fiasco.
So of course it's only natural when you receive random emails from strangers to reply with this:
Needless to say these little emails continued for a week or two. During this time I went to one of his shows but didn't say anything to him. I made my friends stand with me at the door to the bar after the show was over. He came out to have a cigarette. As he was going back in he passed
me and did the double take I was waiting for. I left then, loving every minute of this mystery persona thing I had going on. I finally talked to him a couple of weeks after the first correspondence. I was completely inebriated (as usual) but holding myself together splendidly. More drinks were had and phone numbers were exchanged. I was feeling good.
Two weeks later I saw him again. And once again, I was at his show. Afterwards we sat around and chatted as one by one, people began to take their leave.
"What are you doing after this?" he asks me.
"I don't know, what are you doing?" I ask back.
"I don't know," he replies.
"You want to go and do some karaoke?" (The best thing about New York is that karaoke is available 24/7)
"No.....but I will come back to your apartment and make out with you."
"Sounds like a plan."
So we went back to my place.
I spare you the intimate details but the long and short of it is this: I saw this man randomly, decided that I wanted to hit that, and I did. Was is amazing? Not quite the word I'd use. But it was fun and small penis aside, we did hook up a few more times.
It ended (kind of) one night when he called me to let me know that he "just wanted to get this out there". I was never interested in having him as a boyfriend, but I could have done with a makeout buddy for another couple of months.
After we weren't making out anymore I began to notice that he was doing a lot of TV commercials. And every time any of my friends would see him in a commercial I'd get a phone call to commemorate the event. This went on until the fall when I decided that the next person to call with a "Oh my god I just saw Rick on that commercial" message would have a fatal meeting with the sharp end of my switchblade.
We actually ended up hooking it up again recently. I happened to wander into a bar and he was there and asked if he could give me a ring. A ring turned into a text which turned into a 1am booty call at my place.
I saw him last week at a party. We're always nice to one another but there's always that uncomfortable undertone whenever we speak. I suppose that's what happens when one's only knowledge of someone only extends to their naked bodies and you have no idea what his middle name or hometown is.
***Here's another funny fact that I'll mention here since I'm not using real names:
At one point, things were getting hot and heavy, Rick was standing above me on the bed. He says to me, "Suck my dick."
I tried not to laugh. When a man with a penis like Rick's says, "Suck my dick," I can't help but want to say,
"Listen buddy, I don't mind giving you a blowjob but if you're going to ask me you're going to need to say, 'Please ma'am, would you mind putting my wee-wee in your mouth for a minute or so?'"
Guys here's a tip: You're only allowed to tell a woman to suck your dick if it can actually be considered a dick, and not a "it stopped growing when i was twelve" penis. A dick can fuck without having to have my ass propped up on pillows.
***NOTE: if you don't like strong language you probably shouldn't have read the last part of this post.
I didn't want to laugh
...but how can you not laugh a little at this?
And this?
The full article is here. Among the main questions I have, I think the most pressing is: Why was this wheelchair bound woman throwing knives at her family? And let's not forget the hammer.
I guess she wanted her dinner. NOW.
And this?
The full article is here. Among the main questions I have, I think the most pressing is: Why was this wheelchair bound woman throwing knives at her family? And let's not forget the hammer.
I guess she wanted her dinner. NOW.
I love young guys too?
Currently I'm up way too early and watching the morning news on everyone's favorite channel WB11. Ivana Trump is one of the guests and she's telling single women everywhere how to catch and keep a younger man. She's got a show coming up where I guess she picks a new young love. But why does Ivana love younger men so?
"The old men, they die. I like the younger."
And where can we meet these lovely younger men?
"At the Starbucks. Or the library. These places very good for meeting the young mens."
Thanks Ivana. I hope that when I'm in my 60s, I can snag a hot, nubile, 19 year old college sophomore. I can't wait to go to his dorm and sleep with him his futon. And I also can't wait to be the one to pay for every single date because his parents don't want him working while he's in college.
"The old men, they die. I like the younger."
And where can we meet these lovely younger men?
"At the Starbucks. Or the library. These places very good for meeting the young mens."
Thanks Ivana. I hope that when I'm in my 60s, I can snag a hot, nubile, 19 year old college sophomore. I can't wait to go to his dorm and sleep with him his futon. And I also can't wait to be the one to pay for every single date because his parents don't want him working while he's in college.
Monday, April 24, 2006
Who knew?
I get all my information concerning my race through Yahoo news.
It's because They only give white people insurance. But thanks for letting me know Yahoo.
An Internet Dating Story
Go ahead and admit it. You've gone on an internet date or two. Whether you met the guy on Nerve or Myspace or Craigslist or what-ever. We've all got that little skeleton in our closet and it's time for me to take mine out and give it a little air.
I moved to New York City two and a half years ago. I graduated from college in December of '03 and January 1st I arrived at my first shitty Brooklyn apartment with two months of savings and dreams of being a city girl.
My best friend lived here, but besides him, I was just one of 8 million strangers. I was online all day sending out resumes and searching for jobs and inevitably my internet searches led to online personal sites. I decided to post one because 1) it was free and 2) I didn't know anyone in the city so what could it hurt?
Well friends, it didn't hurt much. And I met a whole assortment of people I would have never talked to before and will never talk to again. I also discovered that I am one of the only people in existence (besides my friend Casie) who looks EXACTLY like their picture. All of the guys I met save one, were completely hideous in person. For awhile I was going on an internet date every couple of days. I met a guy who was a dead ringer for Will from Will and Grace. I went out on a date with a guy who lived five blocks away yet still drove to pick me up and then drove four blocks to the restaurant. There was a guy who told me ten minutes into drinks that his mother breast fed he and his twin brother til they were four. Then there was a guy we'll just call R, who couldn't believe that I didn't want to have sex with him in the bathroom of Sushi Samba on 7th Avenue South. (We'd only met a couple of hours before and I'm not THAT much of a slut) But my favorite interenet date was from a guy who's name I don't remember but probably should. We'll call him Matt for now. He looked like a Matt.
One Saturday night I was drunk in the East Village with a friend. At the time, I was living in Brooklyn and usually I tried to make it back across the river by 2 or 3. On this particular evening my cell rang and it was "Matt." He and his friends were hanging out on the Upper East Side and wanted me to come up. I was drunk enough to think this was a fabulous idea. So at 2:30am my friend Sara and I took advantage of the city that never sleeps and hopped into a cab going from Avenue A and 2nd Street to 83rd and York.
As soon as we walked into the bar I felt compelled to turn around and leave. The Long Island and Jersey girls were out in full force. A film of Aquanet settled over us as we went straight to the bar for two shots of tequila each. After standing around for ten minutes and trying to discern the features of the hundreds of ugly guys who chose that bar for fun, my internet beau finally finds us.
He was tall, not very distinctive looking, and I knew within ten minutes of exchanging awkward pleasantries that there would be absolutely no physical connection between the two of us. EVER.
Seeing how this story ends up, I have learned to ALWAYS trust those instincts.
Fast forward 20 minutes. Still standing in the bar with my internet date, my friend Sara, and my internet date's nasty fat guy friend. The subject of pot is broached and Sara and I, always faithful followers for anything free, agree to go a someone's apartment, somewhere and puff on a j.
The fat friend then decides that he doens't want to smoke anymore so Sara and I take our leave. I hug my internet friend goodbye and plan on never seeing him again. Five minutes after that Sara and I are in a cab speeding down a very empty Second Avenue.
Then my cell phone rang.
It's Mr. Internet. He has a fat one and he wants to share. I tell him that we can't go to my place because I had a roommate I didn't know and I lived all the way in Brooklyn. We couldn't do it at Sara's because her sister was sleeping and Sara has to be up early in the morning.
"I've got an idea," he says. "Meet me at the corner or 8th and 15th Street."
I agreed. After all, it was only 3am and I was only agreeing to meet a stranger on an empty Manhattan street corner. I mean, I was ONLY completely drunk.
I'd be fine.
So I met this man on that street corner. He took my hand and informed me that we would be going to the Chelsea Hotel. For those unaquainted with fun places in NYC, the Chelsea Hotel is pretty famous for housing all kinds of druggie artists, hippies, and other people who's parents didn't love them enough. Mr. Internet paid $150 cash for a room and we headed upstairs.
At no point did it occur to me to be scared. This guy was at least 6'2 and could definitely have demolished me if the need had arisen. Yet and still I walked right into that room with him and I'm the one who took the first hit on that fat j. I also immediately turned the TV on. I didn't have cable at home so I couldn't wait to see what MTV had for me in the wee small hours.
We smoked for a while and then I felt it pertinent to say something. So I turn to him and say, "I hope you didn't get the wrong idea, but I'm not going to hook up with you tonight."
A look of surprise and wonder crossed his face, then one of bewilderment. "I mean, what? I mean, that's okay. Whatever."
"Okay. Cool."
I went back to Cribs and he kept chatting about this and that, every sentence more forced and awkward than the next. The high started to set in then. It was almost 5am and I was completely out of it. He kept talking and the sound of his voice was really grating on my nerves. So I said, "Hey listen. I'm a little too high for you to be talking right now. I'm going to really need to you to be quiet." I then laid down on the hotel bed and put a pillow over my face.
I heard him get into bed beside me. He laid down but kept his distance. That's when things got crazy.
"You know," he says, "Laying here beside you makes me want to touch myself."
"What?" I ask, still under the pillow.
"You're so hot. I just have to touch myself."
"Well don't touch me."
"Okay."
Silence for a few minutes. I kept the pillow over my face. Then,
"I'm touching myself now."
"Great."
"Do you want to touch it?"
"No."
"Do you want to put your mouth on it?"
"No. I don't want anything to do with it. And I really need you to stop talking."
I can hear him now. Little pants and grunts and that gross jacking off sound. The whole time I'm thinking, "Brandy, you've got to leave. Brandy, get up and leave, this guy is nuts."
But I couldn't move. I was so fucked up that I was rooted to the spot.
"I'm going to come. But I feel so bad....."
This is when I got fed up. I threw the pillow off and sat up. He was lying there, penis is hand, glasses askew.
"Look--I don't care WHAT you do. But I am TIRED. And you KEEP talking even though I asked you to stop. So come all over the place for all I care. Just shut the FUCK up."
I then put the pillow back over my head, laid down, and completely passed out.
Morning sunlight filtering through slits in the heavy curtains in the room's window woke me. Mr. Internet was still laying beside me. I got up and went to the bathroom and called my friend Sara to let her know I was alive and I'd be at her apartment in 10 minutes. He was up when I came out.
"Morning," he says, smiling.
I walked past him to my purse and grabbed it.
"Want to get some breakfast?" he asks.
"Actually I have to be somewhere." I look at my watch. "Now."
I walked out of the room and I haven't seen him since.
There was a lesson learned from all of this.
Only go to the Chelsea Hotel for drugs when the guy taking you is Leonardo DiCaprio. And only go when and if he has promised to accept all responsiblity for the child you will probably bear because of all the high unprotected sex you're about to engage in.
I moved to New York City two and a half years ago. I graduated from college in December of '03 and January 1st I arrived at my first shitty Brooklyn apartment with two months of savings and dreams of being a city girl.
My best friend lived here, but besides him, I was just one of 8 million strangers. I was online all day sending out resumes and searching for jobs and inevitably my internet searches led to online personal sites. I decided to post one because 1) it was free and 2) I didn't know anyone in the city so what could it hurt?
Well friends, it didn't hurt much. And I met a whole assortment of people I would have never talked to before and will never talk to again. I also discovered that I am one of the only people in existence (besides my friend Casie) who looks EXACTLY like their picture. All of the guys I met save one, were completely hideous in person. For awhile I was going on an internet date every couple of days. I met a guy who was a dead ringer for Will from Will and Grace. I went out on a date with a guy who lived five blocks away yet still drove to pick me up and then drove four blocks to the restaurant. There was a guy who told me ten minutes into drinks that his mother breast fed he and his twin brother til they were four. Then there was a guy we'll just call R, who couldn't believe that I didn't want to have sex with him in the bathroom of Sushi Samba on 7th Avenue South. (We'd only met a couple of hours before and I'm not THAT much of a slut) But my favorite interenet date was from a guy who's name I don't remember but probably should. We'll call him Matt for now. He looked like a Matt.
One Saturday night I was drunk in the East Village with a friend. At the time, I was living in Brooklyn and usually I tried to make it back across the river by 2 or 3. On this particular evening my cell rang and it was "Matt." He and his friends were hanging out on the Upper East Side and wanted me to come up. I was drunk enough to think this was a fabulous idea. So at 2:30am my friend Sara and I took advantage of the city that never sleeps and hopped into a cab going from Avenue A and 2nd Street to 83rd and York.
As soon as we walked into the bar I felt compelled to turn around and leave. The Long Island and Jersey girls were out in full force. A film of Aquanet settled over us as we went straight to the bar for two shots of tequila each. After standing around for ten minutes and trying to discern the features of the hundreds of ugly guys who chose that bar for fun, my internet beau finally finds us.
He was tall, not very distinctive looking, and I knew within ten minutes of exchanging awkward pleasantries that there would be absolutely no physical connection between the two of us. EVER.
Seeing how this story ends up, I have learned to ALWAYS trust those instincts.
Fast forward 20 minutes. Still standing in the bar with my internet date, my friend Sara, and my internet date's nasty fat guy friend. The subject of pot is broached and Sara and I, always faithful followers for anything free, agree to go a someone's apartment, somewhere and puff on a j.
The fat friend then decides that he doens't want to smoke anymore so Sara and I take our leave. I hug my internet friend goodbye and plan on never seeing him again. Five minutes after that Sara and I are in a cab speeding down a very empty Second Avenue.
Then my cell phone rang.
It's Mr. Internet. He has a fat one and he wants to share. I tell him that we can't go to my place because I had a roommate I didn't know and I lived all the way in Brooklyn. We couldn't do it at Sara's because her sister was sleeping and Sara has to be up early in the morning.
"I've got an idea," he says. "Meet me at the corner or 8th and 15th Street."
I agreed. After all, it was only 3am and I was only agreeing to meet a stranger on an empty Manhattan street corner. I mean, I was ONLY completely drunk.
I'd be fine.
So I met this man on that street corner. He took my hand and informed me that we would be going to the Chelsea Hotel. For those unaquainted with fun places in NYC, the Chelsea Hotel is pretty famous for housing all kinds of druggie artists, hippies, and other people who's parents didn't love them enough. Mr. Internet paid $150 cash for a room and we headed upstairs.
At no point did it occur to me to be scared. This guy was at least 6'2 and could definitely have demolished me if the need had arisen. Yet and still I walked right into that room with him and I'm the one who took the first hit on that fat j. I also immediately turned the TV on. I didn't have cable at home so I couldn't wait to see what MTV had for me in the wee small hours.
We smoked for a while and then I felt it pertinent to say something. So I turn to him and say, "I hope you didn't get the wrong idea, but I'm not going to hook up with you tonight."
A look of surprise and wonder crossed his face, then one of bewilderment. "I mean, what? I mean, that's okay. Whatever."
"Okay. Cool."
I went back to Cribs and he kept chatting about this and that, every sentence more forced and awkward than the next. The high started to set in then. It was almost 5am and I was completely out of it. He kept talking and the sound of his voice was really grating on my nerves. So I said, "Hey listen. I'm a little too high for you to be talking right now. I'm going to really need to you to be quiet." I then laid down on the hotel bed and put a pillow over my face.
I heard him get into bed beside me. He laid down but kept his distance. That's when things got crazy.
"You know," he says, "Laying here beside you makes me want to touch myself."
"What?" I ask, still under the pillow.
"You're so hot. I just have to touch myself."
"Well don't touch me."
"Okay."
Silence for a few minutes. I kept the pillow over my face. Then,
"I'm touching myself now."
"Great."
"Do you want to touch it?"
"No."
"Do you want to put your mouth on it?"
"No. I don't want anything to do with it. And I really need you to stop talking."
I can hear him now. Little pants and grunts and that gross jacking off sound. The whole time I'm thinking, "Brandy, you've got to leave. Brandy, get up and leave, this guy is nuts."
But I couldn't move. I was so fucked up that I was rooted to the spot.
"I'm going to come. But I feel so bad....."
This is when I got fed up. I threw the pillow off and sat up. He was lying there, penis is hand, glasses askew.
"Look--I don't care WHAT you do. But I am TIRED. And you KEEP talking even though I asked you to stop. So come all over the place for all I care. Just shut the FUCK up."
I then put the pillow back over my head, laid down, and completely passed out.
Morning sunlight filtering through slits in the heavy curtains in the room's window woke me. Mr. Internet was still laying beside me. I got up and went to the bathroom and called my friend Sara to let her know I was alive and I'd be at her apartment in 10 minutes. He was up when I came out.
"Morning," he says, smiling.
I walked past him to my purse and grabbed it.
"Want to get some breakfast?" he asks.
"Actually I have to be somewhere." I look at my watch. "Now."
I walked out of the room and I haven't seen him since.
There was a lesson learned from all of this.
Only go to the Chelsea Hotel for drugs when the guy taking you is Leonardo DiCaprio. And only go when and if he has promised to accept all responsiblity for the child you will probably bear because of all the high unprotected sex you're about to engage in.
Friday, April 21, 2006
Work is killing me
This is the first free moment I've had all day.
And I'm still doing four other things as I type this.
Unemployment and poverty are looking VERY appealing right now.
And I'm still doing four other things as I type this.
Unemployment and poverty are looking VERY appealing right now.
Thursday, April 20, 2006
Hi Guys
This has been one of the most beautiful weeks in recent history here in New York City. And I have been working so much that for two days now I have forgotten to eat lunch.
Someone in my office just mentioned that it's 80 degrees outside. I'm looking out of the window now, the sun is shining, people are smiling. And I'm scanning pictures and booking flights and arguing with the power company because they are retarded.
Hopefully this means that some good karma is on its way. God willing.
Someone in my office just mentioned that it's 80 degrees outside. I'm looking out of the window now, the sun is shining, people are smiling. And I'm scanning pictures and booking flights and arguing with the power company because they are retarded.
Hopefully this means that some good karma is on its way. God willing.
Friday, April 14, 2006
The Best Thing About My Day
It's changing my life as I type. Thank you Mitchum. Thank you. And thanks to my dad for the recommendation.
And thanks to my brother for deciding that since Mitchum For Men works so well, he could just skip out on the whole shower part of personal hygiene.
And thanks to my brother for deciding that since Mitchum For Men works so well, he could just skip out on the whole shower part of personal hygiene.
He didn't buy the TV
After breaking out numerous cables and RCA cords and hanging out in my neighbor's house for way too long, the strange hippie guy with the nasty gray-blonde hair DID NOT purchase my neighbor's TV.
A part of me says, "Typical."
The other part says, "God, that guy was so gross."
A part of me says, "Typical."
The other part says, "God, that guy was so gross."
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Still here
That's right.
The weird guy wanting to buy the TV is still here. And he is still checking the TV over. I'm debating on whether or not I should mention to him that he may be better served at the Circuit City over on Union Square.
They have really good prices.
The weird guy wanting to buy the TV is still here. And he is still checking the TV over. I'm debating on whether or not I should mention to him that he may be better served at the Circuit City over on Union Square.
They have really good prices.
Right Now
.....I am sitting in my neighbor's apartment watching Arrested Development and eating a sandwich. Why did I choose now to blog?
Well friends, my neighbor is selling his TV. He posted on Craigslist and as I type there is a hippie with long disgustingly long blonde-gray curly hair in my neighbor's kitchen and he has a magnifying glass (A REAL ONE). He also brought over his VCR. Why? To make sure that the TV is compatible with it. So right now he is examining the television with a fine tooth comb. The television that my friend is selling for $100.
I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS GUY IS SERIOUS. They have now whipped out the coaxial cable. He's been here for an hour now. Oh dear, I think I hear them playing a movie. Yes. Yes, they are definitely playing a movie.
If I end up missing tomorrow, I'm pretty sure my neighbor said that the freak with the magnifying glass is named PAUL.
PS: They are still watching the movie in the kitchen.
PPS: It's never a good idea to let people from Craigslist into your apartment. I mean, come on. EVERYONE has internet.
Well friends, my neighbor is selling his TV. He posted on Craigslist and as I type there is a hippie with long disgustingly long blonde-gray curly hair in my neighbor's kitchen and he has a magnifying glass (A REAL ONE). He also brought over his VCR. Why? To make sure that the TV is compatible with it. So right now he is examining the television with a fine tooth comb. The television that my friend is selling for $100.
I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS GUY IS SERIOUS. They have now whipped out the coaxial cable. He's been here for an hour now. Oh dear, I think I hear them playing a movie. Yes. Yes, they are definitely playing a movie.
If I end up missing tomorrow, I'm pretty sure my neighbor said that the freak with the magnifying glass is named PAUL.
PS: They are still watching the movie in the kitchen.
PPS: It's never a good idea to let people from Craigslist into your apartment. I mean, come on. EVERYONE has internet.
A note for the ladies
The following is an iChat transcript of a conversation I had today and I felt I wanted to share. Summer is just around the corner and with it, promises of meeting hot guys on the beach and meaningless weekend hookups are this close. So this is for all of you ladies who are just sitting around waiting for a guy to ask you out. Take control of your own romantic destiny and stop complaining about not dating. Summer is almost here and every season is more fun with a couple of guys around.
Guys I've Dated
I've been in the dating game for about 10 years now.
Since age 15, the number of guys who have moved in and out of my heart and my bed could populate a small town. I've decided to take a moment each week starting today and dedicate a posting to A Guy I've Dated. I won't use real names but the ones I use will be close enough so that anyone who knows me will know who I'm talking about.
NOTE: By "dating" I mean, "made out with voluntarily on several occasions." By "made out" I mean "probably we banged but sometimes after a night of drinking I forget whether or not the penis actually made it in to my mouth and/or my vagina.
Today's "Guy I've Dated"
Name: RANDY
Brandy's age at time of first physical contact with Randy: 18
Randy's age at time of first physical contact: maybe 20?
I was a freshman in college. For the first time in my life I didn't have my parents watching over me. Suddenly I went from never making lower than a 95 on anything to never going to class because they were all at 8am. I started drinking and never looked back.
Randy lived in my dorm. We met one Friday night when a group of us were going to a club in downtown Athens (UGA alums may remember a certain "hotspot" called AMF?) He was a part of the big group of us and the first thing we ever talked about was the shirt he was wearing. It was a tight white ribbed t-shirt made out of some kind of cheap silk spandex. He was raving about how he got it for $25 at this store called Jay Jacobs. For those of you who DON'T know, Jay Jacobs is one of those mall stores along lines of 579 and Merry-Go-Round and I was under the impression that it only sold girl clothes. I am still under that impression.
This was my first time at this downtown club. In fact it was my first time in a club ever. I walked in (fake ID not needed--who loves 18+ party places!) I was already a little drunk having indulged in an exhilarating game of beer pong on the 9th floor of Creswell Hall (represent UGA). I remember that as soon as I stepped on the dance floor, The Vengaboys "We Like To Party" started playing and a smoke machine blew that chalky mist right into my face. Randy came up to me holding two drinks--Sex on the Beach for the both of us.
So, long story short, we start drinking and dancing and I'm having a fabulous time. Then I realize I'm really drunk and then he's kissing me on the dancefloor. Ten minutes later he's leading me out of the bar. Ten minutes after that we're walking back to the dorm and at one point I stopped in front of a fraternity house and puked.
As we're walking back, in my drunken state, I was kind of freaking out. My sexual experience extended to a blow job I gave at Christian camp when I was 14 and a handful of second base excursions in high school. This guy is holding my hand and rubbing my back and leading me to his room, and finally to his bed, the bottom bunk. His roommate wasn't home.
I'll gloss over the high points--lots of drunken fumbling, then finally getting into the rhythm only to find that he thought that I was going to mistake a penis for a finger (we know the difference fellas). After that awkward little realization, we went to sleep. He got my number and we hung out for another two weeks, making out but not having sex a couple times more and then I decided that I really didn't want to spend any more of my freshman year of college with a man whose last name I kept forgetting. So we kind of faded away. Two weeks after that I had an awkward dinner in the dining hall with my roommate since she chose the very moment I was putting a cheese covered french fry into my mouth to tell me that she really liked Randy and that he wanted her to be his girlfriend. I told her it was fine with me and secretly wondered if maybe I'd just never noticed she was blind before.
So they started dating and I started making my way through my dorm, one awkward bunk bed after another.
Thoughts on Randy now:
Truthfully? I'm not sure I'd know him if I saw him on the street. But looking back I have no regrets. But he should for buying that girly-ass shirt.
Since age 15, the number of guys who have moved in and out of my heart and my bed could populate a small town. I've decided to take a moment each week starting today and dedicate a posting to A Guy I've Dated. I won't use real names but the ones I use will be close enough so that anyone who knows me will know who I'm talking about.
NOTE: By "dating" I mean, "made out with voluntarily on several occasions." By "made out" I mean "probably we banged but sometimes after a night of drinking I forget whether or not the penis actually made it in to my mouth and/or my vagina.
Today's "Guy I've Dated"
Name: RANDY
Brandy's age at time of first physical contact with Randy: 18
Randy's age at time of first physical contact: maybe 20?
I was a freshman in college. For the first time in my life I didn't have my parents watching over me. Suddenly I went from never making lower than a 95 on anything to never going to class because they were all at 8am. I started drinking and never looked back.
Randy lived in my dorm. We met one Friday night when a group of us were going to a club in downtown Athens (UGA alums may remember a certain "hotspot" called AMF?) He was a part of the big group of us and the first thing we ever talked about was the shirt he was wearing. It was a tight white ribbed t-shirt made out of some kind of cheap silk spandex. He was raving about how he got it for $25 at this store called Jay Jacobs. For those of you who DON'T know, Jay Jacobs is one of those mall stores along lines of 579 and Merry-Go-Round and I was under the impression that it only sold girl clothes. I am still under that impression.
This was my first time at this downtown club. In fact it was my first time in a club ever. I walked in (fake ID not needed--who loves 18+ party places!) I was already a little drunk having indulged in an exhilarating game of beer pong on the 9th floor of Creswell Hall (represent UGA). I remember that as soon as I stepped on the dance floor, The Vengaboys "We Like To Party" started playing and a smoke machine blew that chalky mist right into my face. Randy came up to me holding two drinks--Sex on the Beach for the both of us.
So, long story short, we start drinking and dancing and I'm having a fabulous time. Then I realize I'm really drunk and then he's kissing me on the dancefloor. Ten minutes later he's leading me out of the bar. Ten minutes after that we're walking back to the dorm and at one point I stopped in front of a fraternity house and puked.
As we're walking back, in my drunken state, I was kind of freaking out. My sexual experience extended to a blow job I gave at Christian camp when I was 14 and a handful of second base excursions in high school. This guy is holding my hand and rubbing my back and leading me to his room, and finally to his bed, the bottom bunk. His roommate wasn't home.
I'll gloss over the high points--lots of drunken fumbling, then finally getting into the rhythm only to find that he thought that I was going to mistake a penis for a finger (we know the difference fellas). After that awkward little realization, we went to sleep. He got my number and we hung out for another two weeks, making out but not having sex a couple times more and then I decided that I really didn't want to spend any more of my freshman year of college with a man whose last name I kept forgetting. So we kind of faded away. Two weeks after that I had an awkward dinner in the dining hall with my roommate since she chose the very moment I was putting a cheese covered french fry into my mouth to tell me that she really liked Randy and that he wanted her to be his girlfriend. I told her it was fine with me and secretly wondered if maybe I'd just never noticed she was blind before.
So they started dating and I started making my way through my dorm, one awkward bunk bed after another.
Thoughts on Randy now:
Truthfully? I'm not sure I'd know him if I saw him on the street. But looking back I have no regrets. But he should for buying that girly-ass shirt.
Just so you know
I realize that the posts have been a little sparse. Yours truly has been having a bit of a hell week at work. But rest assured friends, I'm about to post so many funny things in the coming days that you'll be using my lines as your own with your friends for months to come.
And I won't even care if you only credit me once.
And I won't even care if you only credit me once.
Monday, April 10, 2006
Thanks to New York Magazine
For yet another week of insight into that coveted world that is "CELEBRITY." This week's cover astory concerns the impending birth of the coveted Messiah of the early 21 century: Brad and Angelina's baby. The hyperbole in this particular piece of journalistic prose astounds me. I'm hoping that the editor and the writer were trying to drown the piece in sarcasm but I have a feeling that this whole thing is totally serious. Here are tw oof my favorite excerpts.
That's right. This child is being compared to Christ. So fitting since Easter is mere days away.
I don't know about you but I know that I view celebs as some of my closest friends. I don't need to hang out with Leonardo Dicaprio in person to know that we're tight. I've seen him laugh and I've seen him cry. I've shared so many intimate moments with him and just from watching Titanic. So I know he's my friend. I know.
And here's the best line of the whole article.
“The parents happen to be two of the most gorgeous people on the planet. How gorgeous is that baby going to be?” wonders Bonnie Fuller, the editorial director of American Media, whose stable of magazines includes Star.
I wonder this every day of my life.
That's right. This child is being compared to Christ. So fitting since Easter is mere days away.
I don't know about you but I know that I view celebs as some of my closest friends. I don't need to hang out with Leonardo Dicaprio in person to know that we're tight. I've seen him laugh and I've seen him cry. I've shared so many intimate moments with him and just from watching Titanic. So I know he's my friend. I know.
And here's the best line of the whole article.
“The parents happen to be two of the most gorgeous people on the planet. How gorgeous is that baby going to be?” wonders Bonnie Fuller, the editorial director of American Media, whose stable of magazines includes Star.
I wonder this every day of my life.
5 Movies You Should Never See
Just trust me. I've wasted hours on these. Don't let it happen to you.
These movies equal almost 10 hours of life that I didn't get to live because I wasted it in front of the television.
These movies equal almost 10 hours of life that I didn't get to live because I wasted it in front of the television.
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
Some End of the Day Fun
I loves myself a good Myspace bulletin. Especially when it is about me. So thanks to Tim for the following.
HOW WELL DO YOU KNOW THE FIRST PERSON IN YOUR TOP 8?
HOW WELL DO YOU KNOW THE FIRST PERSON IN YOUR TOP 8?1. Name: Brandy Crawford
2. Age: 25
3. Birthday: March 24th
4. How long have you known this person?: Since the summer of '05, keepin it real at 264 east second street
5. Are you related: distantly
6. Where does this person live: apartment 24!
7. How often do you see him/her: basically every day.
8. When was the last time you talked to person?: 5 minutes ago on IM
9. last time you talked on myspace: she's on my AIM, which is a billion times easier than myspace messaging
11. How did you meet this person: on the stairs while moving in
12. Their favorite color: teal!
13. When will you see this person next: probably tonight after i go see a movie
14. Have you ever kissed this person: no, i'm totally not her type
15. What's their favorite type of music: karaoke
16. Whats their best feature: definitely her sense of humor
17. Whats your favorite memory of this person? the first that springs to mind is doing mushrooms together for the first time. what a waste of good hallucinogens THAT was ; )
18. What does this person like to do for fun: standup comedy and general inebriation
19. What are your true feelings toward this person: brandy is the coolest friend i've met in the city. she really rocks my socks.
20. In 10 years do you think you'd still place this person at the top of your Top 8?
if i'm still on myspace updating my top eight in ten years, i hope she'll do me the favor of slitting my wrists.
2. Age: 25
3. Birthday: March 24th
4. How long have you known this person?: Since the summer of '05, keepin it real at 264 east second street
5. Are you related: distantly
6. Where does this person live: apartment 24!
7. How often do you see him/her: basically every day.
8. When was the last time you talked to person?: 5 minutes ago on IM
9. last time you talked on myspace: she's on my AIM, which is a billion times easier than myspace messaging
11. How did you meet this person: on the stairs while moving in
12. Their favorite color: teal!
13. When will you see this person next: probably tonight after i go see a movie
14. Have you ever kissed this person: no, i'm totally not her type
15. What's their favorite type of music: karaoke
16. Whats their best feature: definitely her sense of humor
17. Whats your favorite memory of this person? the first that springs to mind is doing mushrooms together for the first time. what a waste of good hallucinogens THAT was ; )
18. What does this person like to do for fun: standup comedy and general inebriation
19. What are your true feelings toward this person: brandy is the coolest friend i've met in the city. she really rocks my socks.
20. In 10 years do you think you'd still place this person at the top of your Top 8?
if i'm still on myspace updating my top eight in ten years, i hope she'll do me the favor of slitting my wrists.
It even snowed in Brooklyn
The sun is out now and if I'd just woken up (oh if that was the case!) I would have no idea that it had ever snowed at all.
But apparently our neighbors in the boroughs got snow too! This just in from Williamsburg:
And then the most perfect way to end any IM conversation:
But apparently our neighbors in the boroughs got snow too! This just in from Williamsburg:
And then the most perfect way to end any IM conversation:
My Friend Are Strong Observers
It had been snowing for five minutes when my iChat came to life.
And then
Followed by
But wait, one more
I'm getting lots of work done today. My world is being rocked.
And PS: the freak snow storm has turned into nasty sleety rain.
And then
Followed by
But wait, one more
I'm getting lots of work done today. My world is being rocked.
And PS: the freak snow storm has turned into nasty sleety rain.
It's snowing
That's right--I just happened to look outside and it's fucking snowing right now. On a list of things that are completely not cool, snowing in April is pushing for a strong number 2.
I would also like to mention that I have on a TANK TOP right now. (Granted I have on a hoodie but that's not the point).
I would also like to mention that I have on a TANK TOP right now. (Granted I have on a hoodie but that's not the point).
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
A True Story
A few nights ago I went out on the town with an old friend of mine and a friend of his. It was a kind of slow Thursday night and our East Village wanderings brought us to one of my favorite city bars, Uncle Mings on Avenue B. Usually this place is wall to wall hopping but on this night it was pretty empty. There was some good reggae on and plenty of space--the perfect place to chill. My two friends, let's call them "Micah" and "Ben" and myself grab some drinks and settle in for some relaxing NYC bar time.
I should mention now that Ben is a very good-looking guy. So naturally as soon as we walk in one of the two girls at the bar comes right up to him and asks to dance. Ben politely declines and Micah and I crack up.
Cut to fifteen minutes later.
We're laughing and enjoying frosty Miller Lites and the girl comes back up to Ben. This time I get a good look at her. Pretty but non-descript face and she's wearing pleated high rise khakis with a belt. She basically looked like an ad for Casual Corner or Petite Sophisticate. But I could see that she probably got a lot of guys who saw her as a mousy librarian with an inner Wild Child. But anyway.
I could also tell that she was quite drunk from the way she was clinging to Ben to stay upright. So she's talking to Ben and Micah and I are snickering and then I hear her slur:
"What are your friends laughing about?"
Ben replies, "Oh, they're both comedians."
So she comes over and the scent of vodka and cranberry is strong as she says what everyone says when they find out you're a comedian: "If you guys are so funny, then tell me a joke."
So Micah tells her a joke and it goes like this:
Micah: "So what do you get when you put a baby in a blender?":
Girl: "What"
Micah: "An erection."
And folks, I kid you not: this girl narrowed her eyes, looked straight at Micah and said,
"Well I've had an abortion AND anorexia, so I don't think that's very funny."
And she walked away.
You guys, I nearly fell off m barstool laughing. Never in my life has such an appropriate response come at the best possible moment. I don't know what abortions and anorexia have to do with babies, blenders, and erections--I mean unless you're anorexic because you made yourself stop jacking off while drinking baby shakes made from your own aborted fetus.
But this is not the point. The point is that off the things she could have said in the face of a pretty retarded joke, she said THE BEST ONE.
Ah......babies and blenders. One for the books, one for the books.
I should mention now that Ben is a very good-looking guy. So naturally as soon as we walk in one of the two girls at the bar comes right up to him and asks to dance. Ben politely declines and Micah and I crack up.
Cut to fifteen minutes later.
We're laughing and enjoying frosty Miller Lites and the girl comes back up to Ben. This time I get a good look at her. Pretty but non-descript face and she's wearing pleated high rise khakis with a belt. She basically looked like an ad for Casual Corner or Petite Sophisticate. But I could see that she probably got a lot of guys who saw her as a mousy librarian with an inner Wild Child. But anyway.
I could also tell that she was quite drunk from the way she was clinging to Ben to stay upright. So she's talking to Ben and Micah and I are snickering and then I hear her slur:
"What are your friends laughing about?"
Ben replies, "Oh, they're both comedians."
So she comes over and the scent of vodka and cranberry is strong as she says what everyone says when they find out you're a comedian: "If you guys are so funny, then tell me a joke."
So Micah tells her a joke and it goes like this:
Micah: "So what do you get when you put a baby in a blender?":
Girl: "What"
Micah: "An erection."
And folks, I kid you not: this girl narrowed her eyes, looked straight at Micah and said,
"Well I've had an abortion AND anorexia, so I don't think that's very funny."
And she walked away.
You guys, I nearly fell off m barstool laughing. Never in my life has such an appropriate response come at the best possible moment. I don't know what abortions and anorexia have to do with babies, blenders, and erections--I mean unless you're anorexic because you made yourself stop jacking off while drinking baby shakes made from your own aborted fetus.
But this is not the point. The point is that off the things she could have said in the face of a pretty retarded joke, she said THE BEST ONE.
Ah......babies and blenders. One for the books, one for the books.
To-Do List for Today At Work
I tend to be more productive if I make lists. I'm ready to start my work day now so I just need a little list to get me started.
- Two games of Websudoku EASY LEVEL
- Make a new iPod playlist of Teen Movie Songs
- iChat with Tim and/or Holly and/or Selda and/or Brian and/or Mark T.
- Clean out one of the edit suites so I can nap on the couch
- Turn computer away from my boss's desk even though I've already told him that Myspace
- Email hilarious New York Magazine article about psycho subway flasher
- Continue Myspace stalking of cute new guy I met a few nights ago
- Fill out forms for free samples in my roommate's name
- Call Mom at least twice to chat and hear her breathe into the phone as I get to the point of the call.
- Get serious about Breatharianism
I feel much better now. Much more accomplished.
Hot Dad Alert
What did I learn from last nights NCAA Men's Basketball Championship game?
I learned that Florida's star player is Joakim Noah. And what else?
I learned that Joakim has a HOT DAD. A DILF, if you'll allow an abbreviation or two. It must suck for Joakim having such an attractive father. I'll be the first to say if I was dating Joakim and I went to meet his parents and I met that dad of his......well Joakim and I would probably break up because it's not cool to be fucking your boyfriend's dad and feel nothing but elation.
Hello Hot Dad.
I learned that Florida's star player is Joakim Noah. And what else?
I learned that Joakim has a HOT DAD. A DILF, if you'll allow an abbreviation or two. It must suck for Joakim having such an attractive father. I'll be the first to say if I was dating Joakim and I went to meet his parents and I met that dad of his......well Joakim and I would probably break up because it's not cool to be fucking your boyfriend's dad and feel nothing but elation.
Hello Hot Dad.
Hello Not-So-Hot Son
Monday, April 03, 2006
I can't believe this guy
And you won't be able to either.
I just spent ten minutes laughing at this article. For those of you who are not in New York, our subway here is just chock full of perverts. Usually you just roll your eyes at the leering freaks and change cars at the next stop. But........ a few months ago a girl got pissed off snapped a pic of one of these pervs--this one happened to be pleasuring his penis for all to see. She then posted this pic online and apparently sparked a movement.
Now Mr. Subway Jerk-Off is basking in his five minutes of sex offender fame. He's completely not sorry for what he did and I can probably look forward to hearing of (or maybe if I'm lucky, seeing) another subway hand job.
I do love the fact that I live in a city where this weirdo (and trust me, he is WEIRD) gets any kind of press time. I also love that there was once a "theory" that people can live on NOTHING. It's theories like this that make me really hate hippies.
And now for some of my favorite article excerpts.
I've got to meet this guy Jubb. How freakish must he look if this is his diet? You are what you eat you know.
And let's not forget WHY breatharianism is a discredited life theory:
So the air pollution is why New Yorkers eat so unhealthily! And can you believe that now we have the answer to solving world hunger? We just have to move the world to the mountaintops of Maui and live off the smell of the ocean. I LOVE IT.
(Almost as much as I love you-Rhine.)
I just spent ten minutes laughing at this article. For those of you who are not in New York, our subway here is just chock full of perverts. Usually you just roll your eyes at the leering freaks and change cars at the next stop. But........ a few months ago a girl got pissed off snapped a pic of one of these pervs--this one happened to be pleasuring his penis for all to see. She then posted this pic online and apparently sparked a movement.
Now Mr. Subway Jerk-Off is basking in his five minutes of sex offender fame. He's completely not sorry for what he did and I can probably look forward to hearing of (or maybe if I'm lucky, seeing) another subway hand job.
I do love the fact that I live in a city where this weirdo (and trust me, he is WEIRD) gets any kind of press time. I also love that there was once a "theory" that people can live on NOTHING. It's theories like this that make me really hate hippies.
And now for some of my favorite article excerpts.
I've got to meet this guy Jubb. How freakish must he look if this is his diet? You are what you eat you know.
And let's not forget WHY breatharianism is a discredited life theory:
So the air pollution is why New Yorkers eat so unhealthily! And can you believe that now we have the answer to solving world hunger? We just have to move the world to the mountaintops of Maui and live off the smell of the ocean. I LOVE IT.
(Almost as much as I love you-Rhine.)
This is the kind of thing that makes my day
I get abnormally excited about free gifts from Staples. This is how I know I've been in an assistant position for too goddamned long.
This is why Hipsters should NOT have kids
Meet Universe Javabean Mitchell-Goldstein.
Little Universe can look forward to a life filled with parents who constantly let him know that they are accepting of absolutely everything from lesbian bisexuality to boys who long to dance like ballerinas. It will be known early on that he can drink and do drugs as long as they are done within the confines of Mommy and Daddy's awesome Park Slope brownstone. Music of choice? Anything with a low whiny beat that one can "think" to. He'll rebel as a teenager and try to legally change his name to John. But that shoulder tattoo. That thing is forever.
All's well that ends...with a fat lip
In case you were wondering, Yanni will NOT be facing a battery charge. In yet another classic case of the girl owning up to what's ALWAYS our fault, Yanni's girl is admitting that she may have "hit herself."
I know I have a huge problem with slapping myself around. And so do most of my girl friends. I've given myself so many black eyes, it's getting a little ridiculous in fact.
I'd also like to note that "Yanni" is indeed a part of his real name. I always thought that was too good a name to just make up.
My Party
My roommate's birthday is four days before mine so we always have a party together. (Always being last year and this year). Because I am a fan of theme parties, my parties are always themed. This years theme was "Your Wildest Fantasy" and guests were encouraged to dress as their own wildest fantasy. This theme was really just a way for my roommate and I to dress up as complete whores and be praised for our outfit choice.
I came dressed as a cowgirl. Not just any cowgirl, but a SEXY cowgirl who needs to be taught a strict lesson in the hayloft of a barn. And as usual, I was the only person who got the memo about the theme and I was the only person dressed up. This may not have been so bad if my costume had consisted of more than denim shorts so short they could be classified as denim panties, a tight tank top that made my boobs look enormous and a cowboy hat. My roommate was supposed to be a catholic school girl but decided that she felt too fat at the last minute.
But I am Brandy. Which means that I took my coat off and let all of Pianos (the bar where we hosted our fete) see what was up. I rocked the theme solo.
All in all, the party was fun. Unfortunately I was on a number of funtime meds as well as plenty of alcohol so I don't remember many specifics. People were dancing and having fun and everything was going fabulously.....until the arrival of The Asshole Who Shall Not Be Named. He decided to show up and ruined everything for my roommate. I won't honor his presence by mentioning his name in print, but I will say that this man is a cold hearted motherfucking son of an ugly bitch and if I ever see him anywhere near my roommate or even my block, I will call upon my Dominican Mafia drug dealer neighbors to break his nasty little hairy jerk ass legs.
Why?
Because that's how I roll when you're a guy who fucks with my friends.
But other than that my birthday was great and being 25 isn't so bad. Especially since I'll be staying 25 for another few years.
I came dressed as a cowgirl. Not just any cowgirl, but a SEXY cowgirl who needs to be taught a strict lesson in the hayloft of a barn. And as usual, I was the only person who got the memo about the theme and I was the only person dressed up. This may not have been so bad if my costume had consisted of more than denim shorts so short they could be classified as denim panties, a tight tank top that made my boobs look enormous and a cowboy hat. My roommate was supposed to be a catholic school girl but decided that she felt too fat at the last minute.
But I am Brandy. Which means that I took my coat off and let all of Pianos (the bar where we hosted our fete) see what was up. I rocked the theme solo.
All in all, the party was fun. Unfortunately I was on a number of funtime meds as well as plenty of alcohol so I don't remember many specifics. People were dancing and having fun and everything was going fabulously.....until the arrival of The Asshole Who Shall Not Be Named. He decided to show up and ruined everything for my roommate. I won't honor his presence by mentioning his name in print, but I will say that this man is a cold hearted motherfucking son of an ugly bitch and if I ever see him anywhere near my roommate or even my block, I will call upon my Dominican Mafia drug dealer neighbors to break his nasty little hairy jerk ass legs.
Why?
Because that's how I roll when you're a guy who fucks with my friends.
But other than that my birthday was great and being 25 isn't so bad. Especially since I'll be staying 25 for another few years.
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