Before I leave, Brush my Teeth With a Bottle of Jack...

Been a holiday of wonderment; baked an obscene amount of deliciousness I sent to various parts of the continental US. Now I'm sick with a cold, it sucks, and I'm doing shots of dayquil with the cat (Mr Meowpants is not having any). Fortunately, I was still able to party with my bff for his birthday and New Year's Eve with champagne and some other party favors I probably shouldn't mention.

I am unsure why I even bother blogging anymore. I'm considering starting a new one that focuses on a facet of my life, that just would not do to discuss here. What's the purpose of it anyways? To be cathartic, and to exercise a writing muscle one might not otherwise get to. Unfortunately, too many people that know me, or did know me read it, and it definitely diminishes the potential for what I'm actually able to write.

The Alamo's blog will continue on, I imagine. We are considering getting turrets on the wall we will eventually build around it (manned by what else, rabid badgers?). In other news, an alarming amount of my electronics have been getting wet. Not cool. The blackberry spent last night and today in a ziplock full of rice to get the moisture out. The laptop's right button wont work now because of some Sierra Nevada CELEBRATION holiday brew. So, new years resolution: Stop fucking up the stuff I have because I dont want to spend monies to replace it!

Rose-marie and I have had our vodka tonic nights, I met a midget in ybor city (yes, he will wrestle me in lime jello, and said if i did it in a bikini, he'd get some of his friends to accompany him), got lots of fun jewelry for xmas (AND A KNIFE, to protect it, I guess!). It's been busy, and it's been fun, and I wouldn't trade it for all of the vodka in Russia.

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?

between a bullet and a target

No, really, I know, it's been a long time and I've borderline abandoned the blog. I've had decent reasons though... I had all hell break loose in both my personal and professional life. I wont speak on the personal part (and no, I didnt fall off the wagon.. to fall off of it, you hafta be on it!), but I ended up getting fired two weeks ago.

Let's chat about that! First of all, I'll say that I start my new job tomorrow, and it pays more. So I'd like to thank the salty pirates at my last job for making that happen. Will I miss working with the chick that got herself knocked up just to keep her garbage man boyfriend around and felt the need to sabotage people to compensate for her own shortcomings? Will I miss working with the mumblefuck tool or the girl who was unfathomably cold, and even combining the two wouldnt create a person worth the air they breathed? Will I miss working with the girl who was mind-numblingly self absorbed, but yet couldnt figure out why she was alone (not to mention scared to try to sell things, which is a big FAIL if youre a salesperson)? Will I miss working for a boss that couldn't be consistent even if she tried, and ran the office with a in such a way that even when staff changed, the atmosphere of resentment and tension remained (there's probably a reason your womb was barren.. it's natures way of saying you would be a horrible parent and you dont deserve children)? I'm thinking I wont miss any of those people.

Also, because of this, I'm now able to hit Fla this week to hang out with my family for xmas. Almost makes me want to send them a loaf of fruitcake for making all of these positive things happen. But yeah, I didnt give up blogging, but I wont pretend I havent considered it. I'll do what I can to catch up on some of the funsies I've been up to, chili cookoffs, beer pong, TMNT party, a Florida trip a couple weeks ago, and finding out that the Dollar Store does sell thongs (no, I didn't buy them, but it induced LOLZ)... Have no worries, the hillarity and good times have still ensued, and they will be put on here eventually.

Tell me your dreams...

So I randomly got a text from my roommate this morning while at work. I'll definitely say it broke up the day.

Him: "last nite i had a crazy series of dreams. it involved kid rock trying to touch my dick, zorro, nazi's running people over with trains, silver, electrocution and man getting smashed by a tree"

How does one even respond to that?

Me: "did you beat kid rocks scumbucket ass?"

Anyway, that's all I have. It's fucking cold here. Like, when I consider driving to a bar when I can see one across the street, it's COLD. Maybe I'll borrow his ski mask.

More like Strawberry Tallcake

I’ve been absolutely horrid about updating this thing, but it’s certainly not for lack of good times! Halloween, I still managed to hit three parties (one of which Landon hosted at our house), despite recovering from a cold I picked up while in Florida the week before. I didn’t stay at the party at my house for very long, and eventually Timmy’s party started to die down, so we took the entire thing to Kremlin.

They welcomed us with open arms, possibly because I came bearing a Tupperware full of jello shots, and a jug of punch leftover from Timmy’s. There was a keg of hard cider, sushi, and a snake present. All the makings for a fabulous party; just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, a multi- leg amputee showed up. He happened to be wearing the same costume (sort of ) as Spam… Welcome Matt! Turns out this dude likes being walked on by cute girls in heels. Of course I HAD to participate in those hijinks. This guy thanked me profusely, and was quite polite. Made me want to consider trying to find a dominatrix to apprentice for as a side gig, but I figure I should probably stay away from the sex worker industry if possible.

My costume, sweet Strawberry Shortcake, was not only enough to get some leers at the grocery store when I wore it in there, but it got two guys to offer to drive me and like 8 other people back to Timmy’s. Now that’s a quality accomplishment!

Goose Stepping Overlords and Fembots

So who’s ready for socialism with a side of fascism? Take a peak at a convo I had today with a friend, as I don’t feel could possibly better sum up my feelings:
(9:06:38 AM) J W: OBAMA2K8!
(9:16:46 AM) ME: READY TO WEAR YOUR CLOTHES THAT THE COLOR SIGNIFIES YOUR SOCIAL STANDING?
(9:16:49 AM) ME: I KNOW I AM!!!
(9:17:03 AM) J W: McCain=Facism
(9:17:08 AM) J W: Obama=Socialism
(9:17:17 AM) J W: I for one look forward to our goose stepping overlords
(9:20:01 AM) ME: i agree wholly
(9:20:10 AM) ME: i hope it becomes a combo
(9:20:15 AM) me: with robot task masters
(9:20:24 AM) J W: Fembots?
(9:20:41 AM) ME hopefully
(9:20:46 AM) ME: i like my robots with boobies
(9:20:57 AM) J W: big lucious tits with strapons?
(9:21:04 AM) Me: absolutely
(9:21:11 AM) Me: to penetrate us with their political prowess
(9:21:17 AM) ME: hows taht for alliteration?
(9:22:07 AM) J W: I'm excited
(9:22:34 AM) ME: i figured
(9:23:10 AM) J W: why so bitter
(9:23:23 AM) ME: me?
(9:23:26 AM) ME: naw, it's just politics
(9:23:36 AM) ME: i'll vote for who i wish, but i think both are figureheads
(9:24:12 AM) J W: both are vile
(9:24:22 AM) ME: exactly
(9:24:44 AM) Me: it's like being forced to pick between a masturbation session with a potato peeler and a battery acid douche
(9:25:33 AM) J W: with a side of sodomy
(9:28:01 AM) ME: indeed

Zombie Pub Crawl!!!!

Before I get into this past weekends outrageous Halloween celebration, I’ve got to back up to tell about the explosion of awesome that was the zombie pub crawl. They’ve had this for a few years now, but this is the first one I’ve done. We did all of the make-upping and costuming at my house, since it wasn’t far away from where it started. A big thanks to Ben, who with his theatre experience helped get everyone looking zombie-riffic. Thanks also to Spam, who made our bucket of fake blood (corn syrup, chocolate syrup, and red food coloring); eventually we had a big fight with it outside. I feel a little bad for the cabbies who took us to the beginning of the pub crawl route and had their cabs defiled by our fake blood. Good thing we tip well!

We had a blast yelling out the cab windows “BRAAAAINZZZZzzz” on the way there, and an even better time leaning over the hoods of other cars screaming the same thing while going bar to bar. Some of the coolest zombies I saw was a Sarah Palin zombie at taco bell (that was right before I induced vomiting), a whole flight crew of zombies, and some SS officer zombies who people were getting for real pissed off at (seriously? come on.. it’s a zombie pub crawl and these dudes were definitely not REAL SS officers… chill out). I’m glad I wasn’t a prom dress zombie there was way too many of those. Another thanks goes out to Tony, who took a shit ton of pics of us, but unfortunately cause he took them, we don’t have any of him… he made a bad ass zombie Kim Jong Il. Randomly, I had some strict zombiest who tried to tell me that my costume wasn’t valid because I was a zombie cat. FUCK YOU, EVER WATCHED PET CEMETARY?!?! Overall, it was a quality event (about 500 people dressed up and came out), and despite leaving my house covered in fake blood and zombie makeup… I cant wait for next year’s!

Hat Fashion Show and Vomit-Eating Birds

Yeah, I know I went to Florida like a bajillion months ago, but I ended up getting super busy and never finishing the tales of my journey. One of the last days of my trip, I went to the beach with my best friend Mike, Casey (our friend from high school), and her interracial love puppet. His name escapes me at the moment.

Anyway, so we got there and set up next to a family, who was not at all amused with our talks of rim jobs. We had good times catching up, which was interrupted when I had to run to the dunes to puke (hey, I was on vacation, you didn’t actually expect me to go to the beach sober, did you?). I didn’t quite make it to the dunes, and yakked in the sand instead. Randomly, a sea gull found my vomit to be enticing. I’d be surprised if it didn’t get sick later.

We finished up the day by going to a tourist store so I could shoplift some souviners for my homies back in Minnesota. WELL COME ON; I didn’t live in florida for over 20 years to come back and pay money for shells. Anyway, I digress… Our shopping trip turned into us dancing around the store trying on hats and singing showtunes. It wasn’t the best way to keep a low profile, but the staff was more amused than suspicious of us. Or perhaps they thought Casey’s boyfriend would ‘cap them in the ass’. Not really sure, but either way, it was a day of sun, fun, vomit and shoplifting!

How much do you fit in YOUR weekend?

Two house parties, Renaissance festival again, and a concert… It made for the weekend equivalent of a clown car. Friday was a party in ghetto Minneapolis, but they had a keg of Harp, a slushie dispenser full of white russians and some greenish-blue Romulan Ale (it fuckin’ knocked me on my ass, and for a concoction to do that, it’s got to be both impressive and possibly slightly toxic).

Highlights include (but are not limited to): trying to have the patience to wait for them to stop singing Tim Malloys around the bottle of birthday mead so I could actually drink some, watching a super old guy try to operate a bong, having a former stripper/speedfreak bitch at me when I used the word faggot-- keep in mind, I actually BROUGHT a gay guy to the party and like the gays overall more than the straights usually.

We grabbed a cab back to my house, but by then it was bar close. Early Saturday Jason, Timmy, Spam and I hit Uptown Bar, which left us squinting into the daylight when we emerged, drunk as piss at 3 pm. After ragstock it was nap time to be ready for the house party that was conveniently down the street from me. This house was also equipped with a stripper pole. I’m not sure who’s idea it was to install one, but it was pure genius. Nothing turns regular, boring, awkward girls into whores-in-training quicker than a stripper pole.

At midnight it was officially Shyong’s birthday and we were forced to concede to his wishes of going to the Soho Café for drunken food. On the way there, a stir was caused when I finished my beer-for-the-road (hobgoblin, mmmmm! Try it if you haven’t), because I threw it on the sidewalk not AT anyone, but um a little too near people.

Sunday was Renaissance festival with Spam, James, Sami, Cheryl, Ben, and Timmy. James tried to hustle the jugglers there (he’s like elite with some pins), but they didn’t fall for his trap. One of the friends we had working there led us down a hobbit path for some mystical ye olde herbals. One of the downsides to fest isthe absolute disgust when some turn their fat side-boobs into cleavage with bustier; IT IS NOT THE SAME AS REAL CLEAVAGE!\

We managed to turn a family-friendly place into debauchery as usual with copious amounts of mead, cigars that lead to black phallic jokes, and trying to find Timmy some fairy wings so in case some people didn’t “get” he was gay, they’d know without a shadow of a doubt.

I wasn’t planning on going to see Lagwagon, but it was on the way home, Spam had tickets and SHIT, WHY NOT, ITS FUCKING LAGWAGON!!!! We left after the show, but Pope, Joe and Sarah ended up singing with the band at the gay bar next door. If that’s not a serious case of badassery, I don’t know what is.

Laboring through Labor Day Weekend

Though this past weekend with the Renaissance Festival was a grand time (despite rain, which made my gypsy jingly belt make even more obnoxious reindeer-like noise), in the interest of catching up, I’ll back up to the weekend before, Labor Day weekend.

Friday, the 29th, I finally got to drink with McWhisky, who because he wakes up at 6 pm outlasted us all with his post-bar guitar hero antics. Fuck me and my 8-5 job; it’s really interfering with my drinking! Anyway, Saturday Ben, Cheryl, Spam and I went to the MN State Fair. Yes, I was intoxicated on booze (I only brought one flask, but hooray for leinekugals stands every 5 feet!), but I think I also became intoxicated on fried food. The thing about the fair, there are always disgusting lumps of people that make me feel better about my couple extra lbs, so it encourages me to shovel food in without abandon.

Highlights from the fair: getting cool cops to breathalyze all of us to see who was the drunkest, just for fun (no, I didn’t win), almost getting kicked out of the art exhibit because we were belligerent enough to be like “THIS WON AWARDS? THAT’S FUCKED UP” or “HOW MANY COCKS CAN YOU SEE IN THIS PAINTING, I SEE 4”.

Sunday was robbed of productivity due to some herbals of a rather strong nature. Monday was Labor Day, so we started drinking early at Skark with some screwdrivers that had 99 bananas (schnapps, for you uneducated boozy folks) in it. Then, Take Back Labor day hip hop show at Harriet Island; that would’ve been much better times had 1. they had some other beer besides Miller light bullshit and 2. Tom Morelos from Rage Against the Machine not lectured us about politics. Seriously, just sing some goddamn music; it already has a bucket load of your political rantings. And with that, I give you pictures.

Warmin' Up the House

We are gonna need to rewind a little bit here… I got backed up, and I still haven’t explained the gloriousness that was my housewarming. After a couple reschedules, Jason, Landon and I ran around like lunatics cleaning, and hiding all of our good liquor in preparation. I had decided rather than have a bunch of food, we should probably just have liquor (if they needed food, they could go across the street to one of the many restaurants). I made what I like to call “Donkey Punch”, and it has Limeade, maraschino cherries, an unfathomable amount of vodka, raspberry sherbet, 7 Up, and 5 hour energy. It was guaranteed to get you fucking drunk and keep you awake for the entire night.

My main goal of the evening was to keep the donkey punch flowing and keep people off the roof. We as a household may go out there, but dumbasses at the party I didn’t trust to not fall off (or at least not to sue me if they fell off, which is just as important, if not more).

Jason had brought home a large pirate flag, but we felt it was best not to draw attention to our house when we threw a party, so unfortunately it did not fly proudly. However, we did cover one kitchen wall with a paperbag and attach markers for people to write fun things on; because we are classy folks, we didn’t have string, so we used dental floss (which came in handy after the brownies Timmy made that um had some stems and whatnot in them). The best thing added to the wall was "cock juggling thundercunts," courtesy of Jessi, a quote from Parker Posey.

We are already discussing our next theme for the party… We were considering having a “flashlight and ski mask party” just to freak out the neighbors, but we definitely don’t want to combine it with our Fantastic Fall Frying Festival. Deep frying a bunch of shit in the dark seems like a bad idea.

August's Douchebag of the Month

This month is already coming to a close, and since I’m still gathering pictures from the party I threw last weekend (oh hey, whomever stole the big ass grill lighter from the front porch, I hope you light your fucking nuts on fire with it), I’ll go ahead and bestow my most honorable award: DOUCHEBAG OF THE MONTH, here we come!

So, Tuesday night, a very lit up Tequila Mockingbird went to the Science museum to see the Star Wars exhibit. The IMAX movie wasn’t just about Star Wars special effects, but all special effects. Well thank you very much Professor Douches for showing me something on IMAX that would’ve been just as breathtaking on the discovery channel. Despite that, and the lack of my flask, I still had a good time, but mostly with people watching. Surprisingly enough, there aren’t a lot of hot chicks at the Star Wars exhibit, but there are some “characters” (I think that’s what my grandma used to call weirdos). And look at this bad ass visor I found to wear!

The Republican Natl convention is in St Paul, so when leaving, we scouted for cross-dressing toe-tappin’, money hoarding republicans in the streets. We saw none, but some friends and I are considering dressing up in hottie-whore clothes (possibly short-shorts with "juicy" on the ass) and going trolling for Republicans to eventually blackmail (with our hidden cameras). The real douchebags of this month are the molls hired by the FBI’s Joint Terrorism Task Force. Some douchemongers felt it would be a good idea to have molls hang out with the protestors just to keep them in line. Gee, maybe we should just stop all pretensions of free expression, and have some red scare action going on. And to the people who became tool-bags and molls, well I hope you’re still able to walk after losing your spine like that.