Things not to do, because I’ve done them and they worked out not so much…

Ok I don’t why I thought I was Kid n Play in the club last night, but don’t ever do this, drunk, in four-inch heels…

Yes I fell and busted my ass. Not cute.

Also, don’t go out drinking two nights in a row, then wake up to go and do a 10 hour bar shift. Not fun. Making cocktails after a night of drinking is like having sex after eating Thanksgiving dinner.

Hangover + martini shaker = barf.

Furthermore, I’m a completely selfish b*tch btw. I met this guy a while ago, who lives like a couple hours away. We’ve managed to keep in touch via technology. Cyber dating, I guess. Anyway, he called me out of the blue last night to tell me that he wanted to come hang out. I told him I was going out with my girl, but he was welcome to tag along.

To make a long story short, he drove out to my city and was a total gentleman. Opened my car door, offered to buy me drinks and looked past the fact that I was a total drunken party whore.

After he walked me to my door, I told him that I was tired and should probably pass out since I had to work in the morning. I didn’t think twice about the fact that it was 2 a.m. and he had a two-hour drive ahead of him. I totally went upstairs and passed out. I woke up the next morning to text messages and missed calls about him possibly crashing on my couch.

Whoops!! My bad.

So tell me, how was your weekend? Anybody else learn any lessons that involve alcohol and a sex driven donkey??? Wait what?

The Buddha Made Me Do It

Has anyone else ever been out drinking with a friend, who for some reason decides to steal a Buddha head from the bathroom of a bar?

No. Just me. Ok. F*cking fantastic.

Ya know, I love my friends and I’ve come along way as to whom I choose to associate with. As my mom would put it, one of my boyfriends in high school was three days out of his orange jumpsuit before taking me to prom. She’s a little dramatic, but I can’t say that she is wrong, exactly.

And I’m definitely no angel. For example, how else would I be able to tell you that espressos and vodka mixed, are not a good idea? Kind of like a Chihuahua on crack.

Anyway, I went out with my friend and her roommate Monday night. (The same friend who lives with the guy who told the “Angry Pirate” story). So, three bars into the night we end up at this upscale spot. When we walked in and sit down at the bar, the bartender looked at us and started pouring three waters. Thank God, because one more drink and I would have been butt naked on that bar while my friend made a cocktail out of my ass.

“I’ll be right back,” says my friend.

“Ok,” I slurr. “Whoo-hoo, it’s Monday night baby!”

Ten…twenty minutes go by and she still has not come back from the bathroom. Either she’s taking a sh*t or she is passed out, ass up, on the bathroom floor.

“Um, I’ll be right back,” I said to her roommate. “I’m going to go and see if she’s ok.”

On the way into the bathroom I’m thinking, this is going to be bad. I open the door and this b*tch is like a spider on the wall, hanging on for dear life to a giant Buddha head that is screwed into the wall!

“WTF are you doing!?” I yelled.

“I’m trying to get this off,” she replied.

“Where are you going to put it!?”

“In my room.”

“NO! I mean like how the f*ck are you going to get it out of here?”

“I’m just going to carry it up under my shirt,” she said.

Mind you, this b*tch has on like THE tightest tank top ever and the Buddha head was not small. It wasn’t big, but it wouldn’t make three drunk girls look any more discreet.

All of a sudden, like a bomb went off in the building, she comes flying back, clean across the whole bathroom and lands on her ass. She is still holding onto the Buddha head like someone had super glued it into her hands.

I run out of the bathroom and tell her roommate, “um, we need to go…”

We tell the bartender that our girl is throwing up in the bathroom and we need to exit out the back. Five minutes later three drunk girls come stumbling out of the bar, running, with a giant Buddha head. My friend with the Buddha eats sh*t and I’m like Forrest Gump, gone.

Yes, I could have stayed and tried to talk her out of it, but when this girl gets drunk she gets stu-born. I wasn’t about to go to jail for jacking a Buddha head.

Hell maybe, but jail, no thanks. ;p

MsP

Mr. New Booty

Sorry I’ve been so bootsy on the blogging people, but I met a boy! Yes, Ms Puddin’ has been busy cupcakin’. Jealous? (hee, hee).

Here’s the scoop: It was Sunday night when I was leaving this reggae spot with my girl. I came struttin’ out the club, the wind picked up my hair music video style, there was a twinkle in my eye that said * bink*. I was lookin’ like a 10. (Basically, I managed to get down the front stairs of the club without tripping in my heels and falling on my face).

Outside there was a group of guys standing around, shooting the sh*t and I made them all pause. I brought the milkshake to the yard. I mean the boys. Wait, I mean this one boy. I brought him to my yard, for a shake. Nevermind.

“Ay, can I walk you to your car?” this one boy asked, as he stepped to me.

I gave him the good side eye.

“If you promise not to laugh at it,” I said. “My car that is.” (F*ck y’all, I roll hard in the Honda, what!)

We ended up having a quick, catchy conversation, where I would for the most part say something stupid and he would laugh at me. (I got game b*tches)! Then I gave him my number and he called me the next day. This is weird, because usually guys call me like three weeks later and by the time I remember who the f*ck they are, the conversation gets all awkward.

So anyway, Monday we went on the best date I’ve been on in a long time. I think what was so great about it was all my geeky suggestions on things to do he was totally game. We ended up going bowling. Then we went to TGI Fridays to have some drinks and watch the rest of the Warriors game.

We were enjoying each other’s company so much, he offered to take me to show off his studio, where we made out and had hot kinky sex on the…just kidding. We did go to the studio, where he makes beats, but we didn’t have hot kinky sex. Boo. Instead we ended the night hanging out at my boy’s dive bar. I mean, what a better place to go on a first date than a dive bar?

We hung out again yesterday. I was on cloud nine until he told me that his sister won this Hooters competition and he is going to the Playboy Mansion this weekend. Great, he is going to come back with a giant rubber duckie on his arm and totally forget about me. * tear *

I’ll keep everyone posted…

A Stoner Tale: The Toothless Blonde

I broke down and rented that movie Good Luck Chuck with Dane Cook and Jessica Alba. I thought it looked stupid, but the guy at Blockbuster said that he thought it was funny. So I thought, “hey why not, he works at Blockbuster, he must know his sh*t.”

Anyway, I get home and I’m watching it (hella high), when there is this part where Jessica’s character falls and busts her face on some ice. She ends up breaking her front tooth and then swallowing it. (Or at least that’s how I saw it).

“I think I just chipped a tooth,” says her character.

I immediately start cracking up and have to pause the movie to take the time to call my friend E (no not the drug).

You see about a year ago my friend E was four wheeling with her boyfriend and knocked out her front tooth. She was cool for a minute, but told me after they got her in the car to take her to the doctor she started crying. A delayed reaction to the fact that she didn’t have a front tooth made her emotional. In the end, she had to go to her dentist and have her tooth realigned. After that experience, she was traumatized and for a long time had nightmares about being toothless.

Being a good friend, watching my highly recommended BB movie, I called her to laugh at her. The whole scenario reminded me of her story.

“I think I should blog about this,” I told her.

“Well just promise me that you keep me anonymous in your blog, so no one knows what I did,” she said.

“What if in my blog you are a 5’10” model chick, with long blonde hair, blue eyes and big boobs?” I said.

“Ok that works,” she said. “If I’m hot then you can totally talk bout me.”

What is the moral/point of this random ass story? Don’t get high and write blog posts…