Yeah but you can't lift up a pair of pants and get dirty on the way home like you can with a dress. Plus you know if he is a warm blooded male he's gonna be a bit jonesed after he sees it.
And his sense of humor is a bit twisted. And its Dallas. Dallas hates my boots. Goddammit. And so...I am going to continue to drink.
My brain hurts. My calves are sore from walking all over the damn city. Turns out I am a mean drunk. Apparently I started some sort of fight with some big, gangsta types and got us kicked out of a bar. I wish I remembered it... For the homies I pissed off:
Sold. I should add...my supply of girl clothes is limited. I prefer jeans and boots and tee shirts. Flirty girly shit doesn't take up much room in my closet.
Earlier this week my socially retarded buddy, and my brothers lesbian-turned-straight fuck buddy went out for drinks at the trendy new bar in my hometown. They proceeded to act the hero to some girl who was being harassed, which resulted in the lesbian hitting the harasser in the head with a full bottle and then running from the bar. I only wish I was there to witness it.
From what I can piece together, these two big dudes had me "cornered" against the bar when Mr. P was in the bathroom. One kept putting his arm around me. It sounds like I didn't appreciate that and went for the throat verbally. Mr. P came back from the bathroom and immediatly went into protect mode and ended up shoving the one who kept touching me. Mr. P is a big dude, despite his leg he can be pretty formidable. We all got kicked out after I yelled at the bartender for not doing something about it. heh. Mr. P reports that I was using the biggest vocabulary these dudes had likely ever heard and that probably was confusing. I need to stick to my weed, I just giggle and go on crazy tangents of philosophy.
Last night I went out to the local bar, and remeniscent of my college days I made fun of every person that I could see. I also somehow managed 2 free Jose shots from the bartender, and had another bartender tell my brother that she bet that he "Would like to suck the wing sauce off of her toes, and that he shouldn't knock it til he tries it, because who knows, maybe they both will like it."
I went to the New England fair today and ate a corn dog, French fries, a snow cone, and cotton candy and then proceeded to piss out my ass in the public bathroom. Why me, Lord?
It's Dallas, shimmered. Jeans are always acceptable as are boots. Dark = formal. Faded/torn-up = casual. Half the girls on McKinney are wearing sundresses and boots this afternoon.
In fort worth they're loved. In Dallas...everytime I.wear boots I get weird looks. It could be the hair tho...
The wife is learning. She wanted hamburgers, and finally learned to pick up ground beef instead of those pre-formed shit patties. So I'm gonna mix in some Sweet Baby Rays (if you're buying your bbq sauce, there is nothing better; I about came first time I had it) and smother it with pineapple salsa and strips of maplewood bacon. Serve with a side of grilled veggies, oven-roasted fingerling potatoes, and wash down with some Real Ale Oktoberfest. Cigars after. I'm gonna get shitcanned tonight.
After getting no more than 5 hours of sleep every night this past week, plus only three on thursday night, and getting trashed last night my body finally said "no more." Got home at around 2am and just woke up now. 14 fucking hours of uninterrupted sleep. I think I even slept through the hangover I should have had. Bad thing is I was supposed to go to tailgate and was responsible for bringing stuff so I woke up to 9 voicemails which began with "wake up and get your ass here", which turned into "you lazy sack shit we need the buffalo sauce so we can start cooking you dickwad", and ended with "dude...are you ok? call me back, man."
I had a wine party night last night. Fucking wonderful. Still have 3 out of the 7 bottles left. Also, nothing makes you realize you don't own enough fluffy absorbent towels more than hooking up with a gushing squirter. Holy fuck.