First of all, I have nearly made it to the end of my first month with my newest roommate. He is so Portland. I've never been there, so I'm just imagining really. He helped me clean the house the other day, and no, it didn't make his penis fall off. Boys take a mental note of that. The friendship was cemented in two ways:
1. He watched my PeeWee dvd by choice, I didn't have to talk him into thinking it is cinematic comedy gold.
2. He saw me drunk crying on Wednesday and didn't bat an eyelash. I imagine his insides crumbled a little with fear and disgust, but he has yet to call me on it. Success!
I think I seriously fell off a little bit in terms of behaving myself. I got into a fantastic death match with Berel a few days ago, fueled by a mixture of vodka sodas and anger that a friend of his had answered his phone pretending he had been brutally attacked and was being taken to the hospital. People who think those things are funny are one of two things: an asshole or a fucking idiot. Upon seeing said friend who orchestrated the joke, I am willing to bet he is both. Needless to say, I think my body pumps RedBull, or one of those creepy hip-hop energy drinks, because I beat Berel's ass into submission for letting someone make a fool of me. I am no fool sir, no fool.
I don't know if that story makes sense.
But I eventually forgave, forgot, drank some beer, and and ran around the apartment in a purple silk nightie terrorizing the universe.
Speaking of drinking, I saw my favorite uncle last week, who Bianca has now labeled Druncle. Genius.
He is my favorite drinking partner because we both call the waitress over once the glass is half full. It's like a race to being beligerent.
I also don't want to talk about drinking anymore because it's pathetic.
I like to eat giant scramps with my vodka. It feels so waspy.
So Saturday was the 6 year anniversary of Lit aka Lit's funeral.
Sex in the USSR.
Denise of the Darkness.
Liv Denise and I sat around Liv's apartment talking about very important topics. We probably should have just stayed home because there is nothing to do at Lit except take drugs and sit downstairs chainsmoking. There was a guy sitting across from us at one point who I thought looked like Jack from Lost. Apparently I am just watching way too much Lost because I got told he had no resembalance whatsoever. This led to a breakdown of the sexiest men on Lost and I felt very middle America. Despite his black stubble and Keith Urban highlights, I still say Sawyer is ass and a half.
Also the Korean guy Jin is a total dreamboat.
Um....talking about other people time I guess...
Upstairs Pia took 8thousand pictures and that was cute. Blog it out Pia Pet. We saw Andrew Porter, hi Missing In Action good to see you again. I felt like I was in a time machine when he didn't remember who I was for a hot second. People always say I've changed my hair?? Um no not really, but a did dump a shitty boyfriend since you last saw me, so maybe its just that I'm not scowling and crying. That was my old look BTW. Grump.
Jiwon stood around being the coolest person in the room with some amazing nerd glasses. Her legs are the thinnest things I've ever seen. They look like sexy linguine.
There was a point where I'm pretty sure the dj played marching band music for a good 10 minutes and I would rather have plugged my ears with daggers covered in glass shards. Complainmania. Who cares.
Ah. Back to hot Koreans. There was some super tall, so I though attractive Korean guy talking to me and I guess I let him kiss me and walk me home. This is still gay Lit night we are covering. After walking me home which is literally one mile, he got mad at me for not "taking it to the next level"
Oh, I'm really sorry hot guy I don't know at all. I should have assumed that the payback for walking and conversation with a disgusting pig like me would be at the VERY LEAST a quality hand job. Hm. I think that I am turning over a new leaf. And this leaf is from the branches of the You're a Pig Don't Fucking Touch Me Tree.
Goodnight and good riddance. Have fun getting back to Queens, cause its Friday after midnight and the F train is out of commish pal. Go fuck yourself.
Some people are just totally assumptive and I think thats gross. The End.
Best news is, Katie just got home from Miami/Fort Lauderdale doing her New York Post duties and she brought me the social pages from some local mag covering a fabrege egg event. WHAT A DREAM.
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