Hell if I know.....

Just a couple of things that I've been thinking about, feeling, encountered, and so on and so forth. I'm just really bored at work right now.

1. Got a keg this weekend....2nd in 2 weeks...feel like I am reverting back to college. Keg stands and beer bongs have become a part of my nightly "going out" rituals. Well, honestly, beer bongs have always been part of said rituals, I've just been too ashamed to admit it. It's officially admitted...shame has subsided.
2. After this "keg party" ended, we went to Front Page News, a local bar in the area. Shit-faced. After the bar, Kris and I brought approximatly 7 random boys home. When I say "brought home", I mean they actually jumped in the car with us and tagged along. Fine for me though, b/c as the luke warm shots of vodka continued, and others sipped on their vodka/waters (we ran out of mixers), I proceeded to do a little dance number of my own. Picture Phoebe from Friends doing her "sex" dance to "I want your sex" by George Michael. Nothing else to be said.
3. I recently threw away the previously-mentioned beer bong, not willingly, but because it was broken and dirty. Much easier to purchase a new one from Home Depot with the help of a nice, innocent 16 year old named Jim, rather than attempt to clean and repair.
4. I am flying to FL tomorrow to meet my best friend and her family for a long weekend. How old am I, you ask? 25, thank you very much. Is it just me, or is this the age that long weekend "getaways" happen with boyfriends, rather than best friend and family? I don't think "friend" trips are at all abnormal; we do them all the time. But with said best friend and family? Honestly though, who wouldn't want this type of vacation? I am going to get a tan and eat real good food and drink lots of alcohol for free for the next 4 days. Thank God for families.
5. I was just reminded of how bitchy my boss actually is. I asked if I could take an extra day of vacation (that I have rightfully earned, mind you) so I can get to FL a day early. I even lied and said that my little brother was down there and I wanted to be able to see him. Well, I was sent an e-mail, not even told face-to-face (which would not be abnormal in most work situations, but you see, I work with only 4 people, and my cube is less than 4 feet from where my boss sits), that she actually wanted the day off. So basically, I am shit out of luck. Bitch.

So that's that. I'll be sure to share the stories from my weekend with the fam.

Obligatory Listening

Whenever I’m in traffic and REM’s, Everybody Hurts, is on the radio I’m unable to change the station. I listen to the entire song and picture the subtitles of my inner monologue…

“MOVE, MOVE, MOVE you heinous wench! If I get out of my car and smack the back of your head, will your pea-sized brain realize that your minivan comes equipped with a gas pedal?!?!”

I know, deep. Stipe would be proud.

Porn v. Excremental Sex

I thought this to be an amazing outlook on pornography:

"Pornography can be seen as the unique medium of a vision of sexuality . . . a view of sensual delight in the erotic celebration of the body, a concept of easy freedom without consequences, a fantasy of timelessly repetitive indulgence. In opposition to the Victorian view that narrowly defines proper sexual function in a rigid way that is analogous to ideas of excremental regularity and moderation, pornography builds a model of plastic variety and joyful excess in sexuality. In opposition to the sorrowing Catholic dismissal of sexuality as an unfortunate and spiritually superficial concomitant of propagation, pornography affords the alternative idea of the independent status of sexuality as a profound and shattering ecstasy."

Richards, Free Speech and Obscenity Law: Toward a Moral Theory of the First Amendment, 123 U.Pa.L.Rev. 45, 81 (1974).

Had no idea that Victorians had sex like they pooped.

Love the knock on the Catholics. Gotta love that "sorrowing" Catholic guilt, as was so artfully conveyed on Sex and the City (you know, the guy who had to take a shower immediately after doing it with Miranda).

Crawdads are wack

So we went to a crawfish boil this weekend. Also referred to as crawfish, crawdads, crawdaddies, or the more civilized crayfish . . . depending on your regional dialect. I can't believe people actually eat these creatures. People were walking around carrying bowls and bowls of these alien-like, shelled, beasts. Prior to the boil, I swear the little bastards were communicating amongst each other, waving their ridiculousy long tentacles about, and conspiring to attack. I was frightened.

Anyway, so I think college graduates, especially those more than a year removed, should not act the way that we [read: I] acted. Ridiculous amounts of alcohol were consumed. Continuous drinking for 10 straight hours will never lead to good things, mark my words. Generally, a little buzz before entering these festivals is preferable . . . that way you are not nearly as annoyed by the random people with no concept of "personal space" ramming into you every 5 seconds and spitting in your face via their drunken ramblings. I swear, I can't stand close, drunk talkers.

Highlights:
1) when the lead singer of the band said over the microphone "who wants my beer?" and Aub peeked through a crowd of tall, black men and said meekly "me" and the lead singer miraculously heard her and screamed "you! come on up!" and she did and he only gave her a sip and she stepped down from the stage in confusion [apologies for the longest run-on sentence eva];
2) when the lead singer said "does anyone else want it?" and I said "me!" from the crowd and he said "you! come up!" and I did and performed a little dance;
3) when I grabbed a random boy's hand and dragged him throughout the festival (presumably to find the ex and make him insanely jealous . . . D. U. M. Dumb);
4) when I grabbed another random boy's hand and did the same thing;
5) making our new urban friends. One had a mohawk. They would direct us as to which songs we should dance to and as to which songs we should just stand there in protest because such songs were "weak";
6) crying because I couldn't find my friends in the 100 x 200 space in which the festival was located and feared I may never see them again;
7) when a boy I dated in the past declared, out of nowhere, like a 10-year-old boy, "I'm smarter than you" and crossed his arms in a humph;
8) apparently dancing with a boy from school for hours who approached me on Monday asking "Did you have fun on Saturday?" and me responding with "Yes, thanks. Some friends and I went to a crawfish boil." He looked disappointed;
9) yelling at my friends because I left them and couldn't find them.
10) making out.

Sometimes love just ain't enough

Oh, the pain of breaking up...for women. I have a theory. Women are stupid and pathetic. We really are. We are often addicted to the comfort of relationships. When things become so blaringly, obviously, patently incapable of working out, we work that much harder to try to work it out. Women just can't seem to accept that two people may not be "right" for each other. When things don't work out, women view that failed relationship as a personal failure. We feel that there was something missing within us which caused our significant other to give up and stop trying. We feel as if we will never, ever possibly find anyone again with whom we feel so comfortable and whom we love so much. Therefore, it is just not worth starting over. It is far more worth it to cause ourselves repeated, continuous hearbreak and pain by incessantly beating a dead horse - after the man has already given up.

This is why women never have the upper-hand - the wonderful upper-hand that we all long to have in our relationships. Though both man and woman may acknowledge within their logical minds that breakup is the best option, and, in fact, the woman may be more unhappy in the relationship than the man - it never ends in woman's favor. We irrationally flip it around so that we end up hurt and pathetic by saying, "I know all these things are horrible about our relationship, but I care enough about you to overlook those things and try to work them out through time. Our LOVE can make it work." And the man is thinking, "Are you crazy, bi-atch?" Well, maybe not so much in ebonics...but along those lines, nonetheless.

Of course, men feel post-breakup sadness as well. However, their depression is mostly a result of the thought that their woman will eventually be with someone else. Men, similar to dogs, piss a circle around their girlfriends and ex-girlfriends alike. It doesn't matter if he doesn't want her, he doesn't want anyone else to have her.

I'm obviously speaking in generalizations, people. Surely they are individual men and women out there who are nothing like what I've described. But my personal experiences, my observations of others' experiences, and the research showing that women suffer from depression in overwhelming numbers as compared to men, all point to support my theory - that women are indeed stupid and pathetic.

Remembering my first(s)

Calm down, we’re not that close…yet. This entry is to give props to the fabulous bloggers that came before me/us.
When I was a mere tadpole in this corporate cesspool I swim in, I was diagnosed with a severe case of boredouttamygoddamnmind…that is until I came across the blogmosphere.
I believe it all began with “tardblog”; I read every entry, and laughed till I cried. I was able to share my findings with other recent college grads. We all rejoiced. In a way, it made life worth living again…okay, a little extreme, let’s say, it made work less painful.
So now that I’m an official blog-carrying member, out of respect and much appreciation, I would like to say thanks to Tardblog (RIP), Dooce and Eurotrash. Nowadays, there are many more on heavy reading-rotation, but you never forget your first(s).

The "Top 50"....seemed like the thing to do (2)

Kris' fiddy -
1. I have no tattoos or wierd piercings.
2. I used to have a belly-button ring, but removed it because I thought I needed to be "mature." 3. I've only been in love once and, as you know, it ended in heartbreak.
4. It actually ended in heartbreak 4 seperate times.
5. When I was a child, I said I hated chocolate (but I didn't).
6. When I was a child, I changed my name to "Christina" because I thought Kristen was a boy's name.
7. My mom used to tell me that Saltines were cookies and I believed her.
8. I sometimes create drama when there is no drama.
9. I worry...a lot...about everything.
10. My whole family is in the Navy.
11. My family told me not to go in the Navy because I don't deal well with authority.
12. I sing and play piano.
13. For this reason, I will often break into song sporadically.
14. When drunk, I will do [almost] anything to get to a bar where there is karaoke.
15. I used to think I didn't like babies or puppies, but have discovered that I, in fact, love them.
16. I have lots of random long-term ailments.
17. My orthodontist says I will have no teeth by the time I reach 30 because of my severe teeth-grinding problems.
18. My orthodontist says I, therefore, have to get braces. I'm 24.
19. I've already had braces...for 7 years.
20. I did well in law school and, consequently, I feel compelled to sell my soul by working at a large defense law firm.
21. I'm a small girl, but I can eat a lot...like, more than many boys.
22. I don't deal well with sensitive people.
23. But I myself can be very sensitive.
24. My mom and I didn't get along when I was in highscool. At. All.
25. I miss my mom now very much.
26. I hate the show "Home Improvement."
27. I hate the following words: egg, sausage, milk (most breakfast foods), moist, crease, crevice, and body.
28. I like to date people older than me.
29. Many people tell me I am an "old soul."
30. I dress conservatively. Shan calls me a "prude."
31. My brother is laid-back, but I am high-strung.
32. I have no favorite color, number, or food.
33. I'm indecisive.
34. I one time caught my bedroom carpet on fire.
35. I think ability to dance is a good indicator of one's ability in bed.
36. I think it's funny to add "in bed" to the messages in Chinese fortune cookies.
37. When I was in 5th grade, my only friends were a fat girl and a blind girl.
38. I hate Moe's - the thought makes me dry heave.
39. I dry heaved when I just wrote that.
40. I am very ambitious.
41. But at times, I've thought of being a stay-at-home mom.
42. I am very forgetful, yet have a near photographic memory when it comes to testing.
43. I have an 11-year-old brother.
44. I am very particular about neck-width when checking out the opposite sex.
45. I am independent and dependent, crazy and serious, rational and illogical, all at the same time.
46. I have made the first move before.
47. I do not smoke.
48. I am musically trained, but have a Britney Spears CD.
49. I fall asleep every night to a fan on the "high" setting and blaring classical music.
50. "Red, red wine. Stay close to me."

The "Top 50"....seemed like the thing to do (1)

Since Aub posted this in her "about me" sec (short for section, I like to abbreviate), I thought it would only be appropriate for myself and Kris to post one as well. I am borderline hungover today folks, so hold onto your pants, this could be a bumpy ride (hahaha, as Kris's date made mention to last night. Still not over that.)

1. My favorite fast food restaurant is McDonalds.
2. My favorite food from McDonalds are the chicken nuggets.
3. I have 2 middle names.
4. I have 2 cats.
5. There names were once Leo and Alex; now they are named Felix and Shrek.
6. I am still best friends with my two best friends from high school.
7. I can be slightly obnoxious.
8. I am a very good friend.
9. I have been to Spain, Italy, England, Scotland, Ireland, and Mexico.
10. My favorite place was England.
11. I want to move back to Cleveland one day.
12. I have no idea what I want to do with the rest of my life.
13. I love mint oreos.
14. I have tiny eyebrows.
15. My favorite store is Arden B.
16. My favorite department store is Nordstroms.
17. I love my family very much.
18. I look up to my father more than anyone else in this world.
19. I eat small amounts of food at a time.
20. I have brown hair.
21. I am a natural blonde.
22. I have a weird sense of humor.
23. I have only been in love once.
24. My father was born in England.
25. I have 2 brothers.
26. I can be bossy at times.
27. My favorite TV show is Friends.
28. I hate tomatos and mushrooms, but I do like a slice of tomato on a Jersey Mike's sub.
29. I want 3 kids.
30. My friends think I will have at least 5, and that's on the low end.
31. I just bought a new Chevy Trailblazer, named Big T.
32. I used to drive a Mitsubishi Montero Sport, named Sporty.
33. My first car's name was Cher. It was a white 1987 Chevy Celebrity with a maroon roof and seriously tinted windows.
34. I went to Elon University in Elon, NC.
35. My favorite vacation spot is Scottsdale, AZ.
36. I live in a house with 3 other girls.
37. My best friend looks a lot like me.
38. My favorite movie is Jerry Maguire.
39. I saw "Titanic" 4 times in the movie theatre.
40. I do not have a favorite music group.
41. I like country music.
42. I say the word "ya'll", even though I am from Ohio.
43. When I was younger, I used to walk into people's houses and eat all their candy.
44. I caused a lot of trouble as a child.
45. I have a tatoo of chinese symbols meaning life and laughter.
46. For all I know it could mean "I give good head."
47. I have fake nails.
48. I love to laugh.
49. I love the beach.
50. "I will survive. I will survive. Oh, as long as I know how to love, I know I'll stay alive."

The "Zoomas"

Has anyone heard of these? These "zoomas"? I can only assume they mean poop. More specifically: severe, sudden, explosive diahhrea caused by the consumption of Mexican food. Sorry, folks, I did mention that poop could be a common topic of this here "blog". Let me explain more thoroughly. Make yourselves comfortable and put down the burritos.

Now what I am about to tell you just doesn't happen in real life. It happens to people on sitcoms. The girl who just ended a serious, long-term relationship had a date last night! Yay! See, that's what I do. I break up with people and I schedule a date immediately following aforementioned breakup. Though many will disagree, I believe this is an excellent tactic to overcome the depression following breakups. The classic "rebound" who, to all of us hopeful/desperate, "want-to-be-married-5-years-down-the-road" girls, could actually turn into a real relationship! That'll show the ex...Who needs him? Anyway.

So I'm looking forward to the date. Mind you, I returned from Mexico not long ago, and my stomach hasn't really been "right" since. A.k.a. my bowel movements have not been so much solid, I had the "runs," I've been pissing from my ass, etc. Get the picture? Sorry for the descriptive detail, but we've all suffered from this ailment. I'm not embarassed.

OK, maybe I am a little embarassed. So my date takes me to get some Mexican food. We're having a grand ole time, chatting it up, giggling...a typical first date "getting-to-know-you" session. Everything is going so great, he asks me to go get drinks afterwards. Wow, he must love me!!! Kidding, folks, but it was going well. So, we're driving along...and guess who feels a little rumbling in the tummy? Moi. Estoy malo.

I figure I have two choices: 1) go to the bar with my date, and excuse myself to the bathroom; or, 2) ask my date to take me home. The first choice was immediately eliminated. Anyone who knows me, knows I CANNOT "go" in public bathrooms. I don't care if they are private, or if my ass is about to explode, or someone is holding a gun to my head saying "You better shit in this public bathroom, or I will shoot you in the head." I just can't do it. Furthermore, I wasn't sure how long this process would take. What's more embarassing, saying "Take me home, I don't feel well" or returning from a 30-minute sebattical in the bar bathroom as my date waits in disgust? Choice 2 had to be it.

Does anyone know that feeling where you are about to get home and your body just knows it, and therefore you have to go really, really bad as you are pulling into your own driveway? That's how I felt on the way to the bar. I thought I handled the situation artfully. I said, "[Date], you're gonna think I'm an asshole, but I'm not feeling well. I think I have to go home. I just haven't been feeling normal since I got back from Mexico. Please don't take this as a reflection of our date. I had a great time."

He seemed slightly taken aback. Since I was freaking out, trying to concentrate on keeping my bowels from imploding, and fantacizing about my toilet, all's I heard from Date is something about "Zooma's" and "Sorry for the bumpy ride." Kiss on the cheek. Buh-bye.

Considering most guys think that girls don't poop, I'm not hearing from this guy ever again, am I?

Bloggin' it Up...2

The name is Aubrey - which tends to get shortened to “aub”...there is a second half of my name that is much prettier, but whatever, one cannot make up their own nickname. I digress.

If you’d like to know about this third of the blog, I’ve created a list of 50 (read: fid-dee – you know, like the rapper) things about me. I know it’s supposed to be 100, but give me a break, I’m new at this.

1. I don’t have the sense of smell;
2. Yes, I can taste (barely),
3. And no you can’t fart on my head.
4. I went to college with my two best friends from high school; we’re still best friends and I live with one of them in Atlanta.
5. I’m an introvert - but not in the shy, anti-social way.
6. I'm a tad sarcastic.
7. My favorite food is sushi. PB&J is a close second.
8. I’d say I’m more jaded than most people in my age bracket.
9. Atlanta drivers cause me more stress and rage than anything else.
10. If I have a pack of gum, chances are I’ll chew the entire pack in one sitting.
11. Most people don’t understand me.
12. A lot of people think I’m intimidating.
13. I was Sweetheart of a fraternity.
14. I think my brother could be the next Quinton Terantino or Woody Allen. Bizarre brilliance.
15. My father is exceptionally talented, but too scared to put his skills to the test.
16. I’m exactly like my father.
17. I love Mint Oreo’s
18. I’m an extremely loyal friend (see #4)
19. I’ve only been completely obsessed about two guys. They both broke my heart.
20. I don’t like confrontation; however if you back me into a corner, I will display a wrath of unbridled anger that will shake your very existence to the core.
21. People are who they are; I’m not naïve/stupid enough to think I can change them.
22. I went to Elon University - I consider it one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.
23. I am not a good test taker…I always think it’s a trick question.
24. I’ve been to Italy, Mexico, Cayman Islands, and Jamaica
25. I’ve lived in Illinois, New Jersey, Maryland, North Carolina, and Georgia.
26. I’m the most loyal employee ever.
27. All of my bosses have been colossal assholes, and I like it that way (I’m always their favorite).
28. The only sports I enjoy watching are Ice Hockey and Gymnastics.
29. My liquor of choice is undoubtedly vodka.
30. I’ve never broken a bone.
31. I have no tolerance for crying children.
32. I don’t believe in daily horoscopes, but I read mine everyday.
33. I have the best mother in the world - I wish I could be more like her.
34. I pushed my mortal enemy AWAY from an oncoming truck and saved her life. Damn I’m too nice.
35. I’m Agnostic
36. I can’t commit to a favorite color - I either say purple, green or sometimes pink.
37. My motivation level goes from extreme highs to extreme lows.
38. I don’t have any tattoos.
39. I’ve recently come to the conclusion that my brutal honesty may offend people, and that I don’t care.
40. I get awkward and uncomfortable when I’m the center of attention.
41. My best friend loves being the center of attention.
42. I’m the antithesis of a drama queen.
43. I like to cook, and I cook well.
44. I’m very protective over my brother.
45. I like my job.
46. I hate being in elevators with strangers - I avoid it if at all possible.
47. I’m going to art school.
48. I’m more sensitive than anyone would ever expect.
49. I’m very happy and content with my current life…
50. “But I still haven’t found what I’m looking for.”

Bloggin' it Up...1

Because we're that cool, we (as in 3 separate girls) are starting a "blog." Yeah, yeah, we know . . . most people are "cool" enough to have their own individual blogs. But we feel as if our combined humor will make for better reading. Enjoy folks.

So, umm, wow, we're really excited to be a part of this little blogging culture. Or, vast blogging culture rather. Though I've always kept a personal journal, I felt it was no longer fair to the rest of the world to keep my comedic musings to myself. One big worry: could get personal. We probaby won't "blog" so much about politics, gas prices, Bush's latest blunder, etc...it will be more or less about our lives. Our observations. Our mistakes. Love, losing love, the search for happiness, the ironies of the "twenty-somethings" (god, I hate that word). We'll probably make fun of people too. And maybe talk about poop. Poop is never not funny.

From what I've learned about blogging, the "blogger" seems to open him/herself up to public criticism and ridicule. We are prepared, peeps. That is, if we can get enough of a following to be criticized or ridiculed. Wow, I hope someone criticizes us. It means, like, people are like, reading this and stuff. Awesome.

Disclaimer: I'm actually going through a [mild?] depression. No one likes to read about depression. And those who are depressed tend to be really not funny. Why I've decided to be the blogger to pop our blogging cherry (sorry for saying "blogging cherry") is unclear. Probably because I need something to do...as the depressed girl who has been in bed for over 16 hours, I was the natural choice to start typing. The others are working. Yuck. Boo.

Time for some introductions...

Meet your bloggers!

Blogger 1:
Me. Call me Kris. I am a disillusioned law student (wow, so unique, so different, a law student who is disillusioned). I am 24. I'm kinda hot. Seriously. And if you don't think I'm hot, you can't deny that a little bit of over-inflated self-confidence never hurt anyone, ok? Anyway. I'm depressed because I've finally ended my 2-year rollercoaster ride with my old ex-boyfriend. Last. Night. I know, you're impressed that I'm doing this (as in "blogging") thank you, thank you. He was almost 14 years older, was rich, and therefore placed me in the stereotypical "gold-digging" role to those who don't know me AT ALL. I come from a standard middle-class background, work hard for what I've achieved, and have actually considered ending relationships because of different socio-economic backgrounds. Read: He had a dramatically more "comfortable" socio-economic background. Not a gold-digger.
I put myself out there to this man, and he said he just wasn't "comfortable" with our relationship ("comfortable" - another word I'm beginning to hate). He was always "guarded." God, WHY? WHY? WHAT DID I DO WRONG? Just kiding, seriously. I am very sad, but I tend to use sarcasm and humor to deal with my pain. Healthy.
I have a couple of pet peeves. Well, many pet peeves. Two I will share with you are:
1) when people spell things wrong. Not accidentally, but on purpose. Like "Kwik-E-Mart." Even "Krispy Kreme." Was that supposed to be clever? OH MY GOD, WE SO NEED TO STOP THERE AND GET SOME PEANUTS, HOW CUTE AND CLEVER, THEY SPELLED "QUICK" LIKE WITH A "K" AND A "W"... HAHAHA. WOW! Sorry about that. I hate that. [with this pet peeve in mind, if you decide to post a comment, please don't use words like "BCuz" and "C-ya" and "Boyz"]
2) when people invite me out to dinner and then ask where I want to go. Hate that.

Ok, I'll let the other bloggers introduce themselves to you, internet. I promise I won't overuse exclamation points or the word "blogging." Another pet peeve!!!! Exclamation points should ONLY be used to make fun of people who use exclamation points.


Blogger 3:
I guess it's my turn. Hello all my fellow bloggers (i hate that word. I will never use it again. mark. my. word.) You can call me Shan. All my best friends do, and since we're about to get personal......I'm from Ohio, went to school in North Carolina, and now call ATL home. I also am kinda hot, and share the exact same sentiments that Kris does on hotness. I work for a rather large commercial real estate company (don't get too excited, I work in customer service, and get bitched at and complained to all. day. long. Sweet. I love my life.) I'm 25 years old, and have more fun I guess than the average 25 year old. Example: we got a keg last weekend and kicked it in under 4 hours. Now, don't get the impression that we drink too much...alright, you may get that impression. But honestly, we work hard and play hard, in that order. Who am I kidding? A little more about me.....I can get distracted easily, and sometimes my attention is a hard thing to keep. Read: I do not listen to boring people. If you have a boring story, please keep it to yourself. I think I have Adult ADD. Seriously.And, to go with the theme, a few of my pet peeves....I was actually thinking of these the other day for my own knowledge. I am so cool.
1. Pennies. Always has been. Don't ask why, you will neither be amused or entertained by the response.
2. Text messages....pick up the phone already. There is no need for someone to be a "master" when it comes to text messaging. You know who I'm talking about.
3. Traffic. AHHHHHHHHHH.
4. Stupidity. No need to elaborate.
5. Missy Elliott.
And I have to throw this in.....I was just recently a "victim" of one of Kris's pet peeves. I have to defend myself. When I asked you if you wanted to get a "bite", I was merely asking if you wanted to take part in our quest of the perfect food extablishment at the moment and if you cared to join. I will be more careful next time with my wording. Ass.
Alright, guess that's it for the "about me" entry. Please rest assured that you will be both highly entertained and amused by our writings/findings. We are a rare breed of girls here. Love us, hate us, just read us. Ha, who the hell do I think I am?? Until next time. Peace. Love. All that crazy shiat.

We've got to start somewhere

Let me start off by saying that what is to follow is absolutely one of the finest writing samples from Aubrey. You see, a group of us girls used to go out every Wednesday night in an attempt to try new restaurants and be able to catch up on our week. What in turn actually happened was us ending up inevitably at The Tavern, getting hammered, and having to drag our stank asses to work the next day. And live to write about it all. Aubrey was in charge of writing the weekly re-caps. I say was because we no longer partake in these Wednesday night festivities we dubbed "WYNDIC." It was the cooler version of WNDC. It stands for "Weekly Wednesday Night Dinner/Drinking Club." I know there is nothing that the "I" represents. It just makes it flow better. And, I know as well, not that creative. But it sounds funny when said...say it with me.....W-Y-N-D-I-C. Ha. Anyways, here is an entry from Aubrey's 24th birthday last year. Hilarity at it finest. Even though you don't know the people, who cares. We will inevitably talk about them enough on this blog that you'll feel as though you do.

Due to my inability to formulate complete sentences yesterday, the recap is a day late. Yes, Wednesday's festivities rendered me inoperative for an entire day, but as always, totally worth it! Let me begin by thanking each of you for a fabulous birthday celebration – martinis, good; sushi good; friends, gooood.

Onto some details to jog your memory of the evenings events…*disclaimer* my memory of the night is rather hazy, therefore I cannot be held accountable for any inaccuracies or lies my drunken mind may have fabricated.

We started off the night right – Kris knew the bartender and we were promptly served huge shots. I guess technically they’re called “shooters”…but they were strong enough to be considered “will grow hair on your chest” shots.

Thanks to Twist’s 2 hour wait, errbody was feelin’ a lil’ tipsy before ordering the raw fish (good combo…my stomach is still furious with me).
The wait however, was tolerable considering our delightful conversations. All topics were covered. Everything from the crisis in Iraq, to “no seriously, it was so big and heavy he couldn’t get it up…and that’s not even the largest one I’ve been with.” Thank you, Dana.

Unfortunately, there are no Elizabeth “gold-digger” stories this week; HOWEVER, l will break-out one from the previous week. Last week, Dana generously gave a gentleman a cigarette; in return, he graciously bought HER a drink. Biz selectively hears “free drink” and decides to go ahead and get a drink on the gentleman’s tab…”What?! We’re her friends!” As usual, good work.

We lost some soldiers after dinner, but Shan, Dane and I were in it for the long haul. To document our ongoing efforts, I gave my digital camera to the “gangster” on the side of the street. Shockingly, he didn’t steal my camera and took a decent picture. Despite this, we still ran away in fear…”Hurry! He’s going to shoot us in the back”

Surviving our near attack, we comforted ourselves with more drinks at the Tavern, and the company of Jack, Larry and Jay.

Dana and Aubrey get sentimental in the bathroom. Yes, the female gender is known to do such things on a common basis, but seeing as Dana and I pride ourselves on being hard-asses, this is a rare occurrence. We became upset, naturally, that we weren’t friends in college. Don’t worry everyone; we decided this is not such a bad thing. You see, had we been around to influence each other (like we do) college-style, we wouldn’t have seen graduation day. It’s much better that our friendship developed now that we’re mature and responsible. ha.

Dana and Jay get in their usual fight…”I looked happier in the picture than you!” Must be hard to be in such a dysfunctional relationship.

I topped-off the night with a blow-job shot. Larry was the lucky guy. The pictures are very incriminating, and the perverts next to us enjoyed seeing whipped cream on my face a Little. Too. Much.

Larry, Jack, Shan and I did venture to another bar, but my memory is too muddled to even attempt. I do remember Jack and Larry doing a pole dance together. jk...maybe.

Well gals, another WYNDIC, another birthday. I feel fortunate that I get to celebrate both occasions with each of you.

And there you have it. Aubrey, ladies and gentleman. Until next time, peace, love, and all that shiat.