Robo-Trippin', Gandolf The Molester, Gwar, & Bar Dancing

I'm sick, no swine flu (although my gay's got it, and JayDee felt that this made them "disease ridden plague-rats", which of course got me spicy towards him). Yesterday, while accidentally robotripping, I had a religious experience, in which I saw Mechano Jesus (who's tears are pure WD-40, by the way). Fortunately, I went to sleep before the walls started melting.

In other news, stuff AND things are going exceedingly well. Been doing more blogging here, about The Alamo, which is the culmination of our pride, fears, hemorrhaging of monies, and hope all in one 1920's style mission house.

As for funsies, I threw Dad a birthday bbq-pool party. The dixie slut and her fake cans that visited him from TX did not come to it, because he figured out she was a gold digging whore, and took her back to the airport early. Been to a few boxing matching and MMA fights. Only one resulted in an almost-fight (I so did not start it with that guy; you can't start talking about my boobs while I walk by without considering I might tell you graphically how you should kill yourself in front of your buddies). Rosemarie and I have had some good times, including a vodka tonic night that ended playing on a trampoline, and another night that included us dancing on the bar at Coyote Ugly and stroking some girl's giant inflatable wiener. I went to Busch Gardens for Hallowscream again, note super-tall Gandolf trying to feel me up below. I saw GWAR, which where we were at in VIP, is literally like the front row to the apocalypse; even got to meet Batman there, among other curious creatures. If you've never seen GWAR live, you need to; who wouldn't want to see a sci-fi metal thrash band that dances around with a giant fake cock that has a pig's head on the end of it?

Well, those are the highlights, I can only manage so much these days, because of time constraints, and general ambivalence. Stay tuned for impending Guavaween, Deadmau5, and Nerdcon events which are on the horizon! If I haven't said it before, I'll say it now, I am so incredibly glad I moved back from Minneapolis!

Baconnaise, Cock Magic, and The Alamo

Once again I return after many moons of not blogging. Don't get me wrong, plenty of good times have been had, and hell, that's part of the reason I don't have the kind of time needed to blog. Just to recap a little, life is going well, but "well" doesn't even do it justice! We closed on our house, Aka The Alamo, yesterday; it's a 1927 Spanish house, with a basement (super rare for Fla; it's only 1 of 20 houses in Tampa w/ a basement). Jaydee (the bf) and I will be blogging about it intermittently here. There is a ton of work to do on it, but the house has a lot of character, which is what we wanted instead of a cookie cutter house.

To introduce Jaydee a little, he's a quality dude. I dated him before I moved to Mpls, but it wasn't serious, and it took him about 6 months after I moved for him to figure out I'm a "unique" find (hey, I didn't get moved across the country twice because I was average; the great cans didn't hurt either). At first I thought it was one of those "wanting something you couldn't have" things, but he kept at it for 3 1/2 years. Other notable things he's done to prove that he digs me (besides just putting up with my lunacy): driving 4 hrs on xmas eve to pick me up from the airport because it was the only airport in the state of fla I could get into, letting me make the majority of the decorating decisions for The Alamo, and flying up to MN to help me drive my car down. Also, besides having a magical cock, he's super smart (which is hot), makes delicious beef jerky, and supports my womanizing.

In other news, I got a fantastic marketing job at a place that produces 4 soon to be 5 publications. In a shitacular economy, a hooking up growing business is the wise route to go. There, I study the demographics of each mag's target audience, then come up with new/pre-existing products or services that fit, and then chase down the right contact person. It's how I found out about baconaisse! I'd like to note I don't do any selling; we have a dept for that & I'm way too emo for sales (and it would probably end up with me cursing people out, telling them to buy my fuckin' advertisement or I'll slit their throat).

There's many stories I'd like to catch up on, and will try to get to. For now, have a slideshow and don't forget to check out our house's blog!

Why I Hate my New BlackBerry Pearl

Now, my last flippy phone was pretty basic, and it didn't have a full keyboard, so I would multiple hit the keys to select the letter. However, I had gotten quite quick at this and was able to do it quickly and while doing almost any other task. When I got my new phone this week (along with my Florida number, WHEEEE! I FEEL LIKE A RESIDENT AGAIN! Now all I need to do is start selling oranges on the side of the road in a bikini and scamming the elderly!), I thought all of the fun bells and whistles and ability to stalk people on facebook from my phone would be cool. Not so much. It's a burden that is eating away at my soul, and this is why:

• it's harder to text and drive, so I'm constantly running off the road and scaring tourists
• it lights up like a goddamn christmas tree, so NO stealth texting at work under my desk now
• it doesnt take pictures of female impersonators very clearly when they move fast (I missed some magical trannytastic moments at the cabaret show at L'Olivier in Ybor city friday; I blame the blackerry and not the martinis).
• it's ambiguous as to whether it's plugged in and charging. See, I dont fucking need to have my phone go dead on me. If my car breaks down, I need to be able to use my phone before I get eaten by a gator, or my skin burns off from being out in the sun.
  
• the text messages dont flow conversationally, so when trying to find a specific message, I'm forced to sort through the other bajillion text messages I've sent
• it didnt recognize profanity or racial slurs for the first few days, which really cause my texting time to almost double

Your cell phone provider trying to get you to take a blackberry pearl? DONT FALL FOR THEIR DARK MAGIC! It's a trap, much like the trannys at cabaret... it looks like a good idea, but you'll just end up getting an unpleasent surprise.

Nothin' like packing all of your shit into a saturn and blowin town!

Man, I do love reader responses... The longer I go without writing anything the more colorful they are:

"I heard you have aids, true?"


Goddamn right I have aids! FULL BLOWN IN FACT!!11!one!!


No, not really. I've just been busy, OH RIGHT, MOVING ACROSS THE FUCKING COUNTRY AND RE-ESTABLISHING MYSELF.

That's gone well by the way. Had an awesome GTFO luau (yes, it's on the list to get to) that involved a captains hat, booze filled pinata, a dublin shiv, and schoolies. And that's just for starters! The 1,500 mile, 26 hour straight through drive down to Florida from Minnesota wasn't a particularly funsies one, but it could've been entirely worse (only had to mcguyver up my car once with zip ties). By the time we actually got to Fla, Illinois, Tennessee, and Georgia were missing shot glasses from gas stations. Except the one, which came from an eating establishment inside a barn "The Hen House;" thought it was so fucking classy I got a T-shirt (an indigestion, but that just made me feel more like a trucker.)

So today marks my two week anniversary of being in the state, and I can legitimately say there are more scaryass spiders here than I remember. Oh, and even more disturbing is my creeper. I was just minding my own business, in my big ol empty ouse with a pool, burning my boobs in an effort to reduce tan lines, and I hear some shit in the bushes. WHAT THE FUCK?! Now yes, it could be an animal because it's a wooded area, HOWEVER--

Fast forward to last night, I get home from work before going to Carrabas to meet my dad and his new girlfriend (the old one got kicked out on thurs for being lippy); this one bought me dinner as opposed to the old one who just bought me a jug of wine, so combined with her being younger I think it's an overall trade up... However, I'm getting off topic here...

Anyway, I get home to find two large panel screens ripped open and what looked like to be vomited up meat on my patio. WHAT A TREAT!!! Fortunately, Uncle Ted came over to investigate, and I have a gun now, so I feel much better about whatever is in my patio. Whether it is some leering masturbating fiend, or just a big ass animal, I'm almost kind of hoping they bust back in the patio, so I can blast them in the face. Hell, I'm considering doing moar topless sunbathing just to lure him out.

Life is good, and I'm excited about going to see UFC this weekend. Also, I definitely see some shootin' up of Gramma's orange grove next door in my future for target practice. Enjoy the slideshow, it's part of the good times fla has bestowed upon me so far.

Let's Play Hide and Go Die in a Fire

This is the little treasure of feedback I received today, on my last post: BBC has left a new comment on your post "Cowboys, Indians, and Uno Mexican":

"Last post March 5. Has the drunk party girl wore out?"

In answer to that, No Twatwaffle, I have not worn out, if anything I've had so much funsies I don't have time to post. Also, most recently I've been preparing to move across the country, sell the majority of my earthly possessions so the leftovers fit in a goddamn saturn, and getting ready for the schoolie luau to come.

Eventually, I'll catch up and write about the three day keg finishing challenge(hosted by Cheryl, where someone not me was arrested), my 25th Birthday Bar Crawltacular, the St Paddy's Day Revisited party I hosted, Spam's birthday(we got kicked out of two bars and a pizza place), Easter weekend's all-night poker fueled by red bull vodkas and chicken mcnuggets, Timmy's birthday and why I'm not allowed back at Old Chicago for awhile. I've indeed been busy, but not in jail or in the hospital or giving handy j's at a truckstop.

However, I assume once I'm back in Florida, I'll have some time on my hands; then I can post my adventures, complete with slideshows. All in good time, fuckers, all in good time.

Cowboys, Indians, and Uno Mexican

Once again, it's been awhile, bet ya thought I abanonded the blog (hell, I almost thought I did). I've been busy, activities including but not limited to: going to a pampered chef party where two people either had or still did sell herbals, making ham (we had so much ham I started feeding it to the cats, turns out it makes their coats really shiny!), having my car break down in an 8 inch blizzard, playing poker, contemplating a move, finding a surprise cache of Heavy Metal magazine (SRSLY, ITS PORN-ALIEN-VIOLENCE comic.. what more could one want to put in their bathroom?), seeing Joel McHale live (his standup is much better than his show, The Soup), losing my wallet then having a creepy guy return it (YAY, HE NOW KNOWS WHERE I LIVE!), and last but not least going to an underage party where Timmy and Pandafrank and I had to school some whippersnappers about drinking games. That was a helluva run on sentence that left me breathless.


Landon has come up with a new drink recipe: "The Landini" - 1/3 part boonesfarm + 2/3 boxed wine. Side note: when you put it in a Vitamin water bottle it blends in and you can take it to bowling, on the bus, or chinese buffet. I know this for a fact.

Most recently was Lisa and Ashley's Cowboy and Indian party. Landon went rogue and decided to dress as a mexican, perhaps it gave him and edge, as we were an undefeated team in beer pong. Timmy almost wore a headset & tunic and was going to give out tech support all night, but no, this party was referring to the casino, fire-water Indians. Eventually the jello shots caught up to me and had me technicolor puking in the sink. Unfortunately, it did NOT have a garbage disposal, so I had to pick out the chunk of carrots and cocktail weiners. I'll just leave this slideshow here with intentions of returning with some other (probably alcohol fueled) adventure.

Protesters, Wizards, and Truth Or Dare

Such a crazygoodtime weekend I don't even know where to begin! Friday night Pfrank, Timmy and I played guitar hero downstairs at Marc's. It ended with Pandafrank almost getting a handy j from a larger girl, and me waking up with Marc's cat eating my hair. Turns out I knocked over a table that night, so there was a fun mess of broken glass, rocks, and soil to clean up

Saturday I got to be inconvenienced by protesters. Also, it was Kevin's birthday/Harry Potter party. That's one of the many things I love about the gays, not only do they recycle, redecorate, and smell great, but they throw costume parties. And really, what's better than a bunch of drunk wizards? I went balls to the wall with my costume (which was even awesomer when I busted in the liquor store in full garb), and loaned my extra cape (BECAUSE WHY WOULDN'T I HAVE TWO CAPES?) to Timmy. We went down there with Ellen and Pj, and when we arrived, everyone was already hammered. We worked hard to catch up, and shot of the Dr Macgillicuddies helped. Not only did I get asked to be a surrogate mother (don't I need to stop drinking for that? I can't blame 'em, I do have spectacular Irish genetics!), but we played a rousing game of truth or dare. It involved, but was not limited to, me giving Melissa a lap dance, Raleigh running around the culdesac naked, Timmy making shadow puppets with his wiener and two of the straight boys making out.

Sunday I had more adventures, as I rode the bus for the first time on the way to retrieve my car from Ellen and Pj's house. Turns out a lot of "interesting" people ride the bus. We entertained them all, with our McDonald's cups full of white russians and stories from the night before.

Everyone Wants To Be Naked and Famous

Once again, it's been a hell of a weekend. Started early on Wednesday by catching up with Andrew over Snakebites (hard cider and Guinness) at Old Chicago. Friday Landon and I pre-drank at the house (I made some concoction with UV Blue, redbull, and then added in some pear cider when I ran out of the redbull). Then his girlfriend Lisa, her roommate Ashley, and The Novice came out with us for one of our old fashioned pub crawls in Uptown. I classed it up and brought a watermelon candy cane with (cause why WOULDN'T I have a candy cane at the bar in Jan?), and some weirdo at Stella's was like "ohhh NICE, I LIKE THE CANDY CANE!!" Yeah, thanks asshole. From the 2-for-1's there, we went to Williams, with a quick stop at McDonalds to get some grease to soak it up. Darts, pool, pints and peanuts set us up right. What happened next is subject to interpretation because none of us remember it... At some point on the walk home I *think* I fell in a snowbank. Why do I think this? Because I woke up with a rather large bruise on my back (I cant wait till it turns greenish yellow because it will make my fairy tattoo look gangrenous), my knee all fucked up. But WHY a snowbank in particular? Well, when I woke up my phone had so much water damage the screen wouldn't work and it didn't get a signal. I tried to bake it in the oven (what setting do you even put the oven on to bake a phone we wondered? We treated it like a creme brulee, where less is more), but no dice. Landon took me to Godfather's pizza buffet on Saturday afternoon so I could eat away my pain. Then to the sprint store where they gave me a new cell. I guess all is well that ends well. Or something. My injuries caused me to tap out early on Sat night, after only a couple Leinies Dark N Creamy's. PandaFrank and Timmy made fun of me mercilessly, I told them to shut the fuck up, because I was crippled. Not a valid excuse it turns out.

Merry Xmas and a Happy Go Fuck Yourself

So I'm sure most of you are itching to know how the new job is going. It's definitely going well, despite getting lost in the skyway of my building the first day. I don't have all of the free time to dick around on the interwebs like I used to, but if it's a decision between doing that and having to work with incompetent wastes of flesh, big pass on my part.

In other news, I had a fanfuckingtastic holiday in Fl. It contained (but was not limited to) eating stone crab, missing my first flight because the cocksuckers at US airways misprinted the concourse number on my ticket (and subsequently finding out they don't serve liquor until 8 am in the state of Minnesota, which is retarded because I AM NOT FLYING THE PLANE, SO WHY CANT I BE INTOXICATED), Auntie Cougar got engaged (congrats!), dressing up my aunt's cats in santa hats and reindeer ears (they LOVED it), turning the leftover xmas fruit salad into a frozen rum-filled concoction, going to a party on Anna Maria island that had a tiki hut in the back yard, talking to my dad about the first time he touched fake tits, drinking manishewitz and vodka (it's my tip o the hat to the jews and my way of celebrating Hanukkah) and hmm I think that about covers it. All I can say was it was festive, and we really enjoyed each others' company and truly remembered the real spirit of Christmas--- that Santa died for our presents.
Timmy had an interesting holiday as well... he got arrested. I didn't have anything to do with it, he was in Wisconsin with his family, his brother PandaFrank encouraged him drink some exorbitant amount of booze, then took him to Hardees. What happened next is subject to dispute, but what CAN be agreed upon is he started talking shit to the manager and told him to "shut the fuck up", that he could do his job better, and HE WAS DRUNK... this didn't go over so well. They were told to leave, the cops were called, and everything wouldve been fine if he hadn't gone back for his food. I can't throw stones; I do love some curly fries. Anyway, fortunately it was just a fine. What happened to the good ol days of when you were a dick to fast food people and they just spit in your food?