Anyone who knows me well will tell you that I will spend my money on just about anything. I will not, however, give my local movie theater one more dime! Back in the day, when I was 15, movies cost $6! Now it’s $15 just to walk in the door! (Wow, I’m old.) God forbid if you want to see something in 3D!
This is why I bring my own snacks, ghetto-style, to the movies. I sneak in candy, drinks, and other treats. I used to bring water bottles or M&Ms, but now I’m daring with cans of soda and bags of Butterfingers minis.
When I proudly told my cousin about my deviousness, she said, “Candy and soda? You’re an amateur! I pop my own popcorn and bring it in a ziplock baggie!” Continue reading →
My friend Jack recently took up the guitar. One morning, he woke up at his girlfriend Lucy’s house and decided to sneak into the living room in his underwear to practice.
As he sat there playing a Greenday song, he heard the jingling of a lock. In walked Lucy’s parents, holding cleaning supplies and breakfast (their weekly tradition which he had completely forgotten about).
We all do it. Wake up, feel like crap, and decide, “Hey, it’ll be a great idea to forego makeup (if you’re a girl) and doing my hair (unisex decision) and go out looking like I feel.” Then, about twenty-eight seconds after making this lazy decision, we realize it may not have been our finest choice. Usually this realization comes from good-looking people throwing garbage at us.
There is nothing worse than someone insulting you (whether purposely or inadvertatly) right at the beginnig of a night that you thought you looked hot. The weekend of my birthday, one of my best friends, Alexa, took me to the Jersey Shore to celebrate.
I looked awesome. I had on a hot pink mini skirt that I’ve legitimately been waiting to wear for a full year. I threw a wife-beater and a belt with it, straightenend my hair, perfected my makeup, and put the final touch on my bithday ensemble: a tiny pink and crystal tiara that my mom had given me.
Magic Mike is the best thing to happen to me and my friends since Fifty Shades of Grey. We’ve dubbed this move the “best worst movie ever made in the history of the world.” Whoever had the INGENIOUS idea of getting five of the hottest guys on the face of the earth and putting them in a movie in which they had to remove their clothing and dance should be given a Nobel Peace Prize. As a matter of fact, I will personally present it to them if I can stop salivating long enough to stand on a stage and hand over the award.
Yes, the lunatic in the hot pink/zebra dress is me. And, yes, I am giving a lap dance to a complete stranger on stage in front of a restaurant full of people at a transvestite cabaret. As you can see in the progression of photos, I went from shy and afraid to wild and crazy in a matter of about ten seconds. What? I wanted to win the contest! (And I photoshopped a censor onto my leg in the third shot in case you’re wondering what the hell that is, haha.)
This past weekend, my girlfriends and I went out to Lucky Cheng’s to celebrate my 25th birthday. (I know, I know, I’m insanely old.) For those of you who are not familiar with this establishment, it is a restaurant/drag queen cabaret. Within five minutes of choosing between two drinks — the Pink Pussy and the Flaming Poon — we witnessed a lap dance that made even me blush.
Having a therapist is awesome. It’s someone that you literally pay to listen to you bitch and moan. But I think there’s something even better than therapy – and that’s having dessert with your girlfriends. When you get to be a certain age, and have a job, and a boyfriend, (and a blog), things tend to get a little busy. Every once in a while, though, you have get off your lazy ass and hang out with your friends, to blow off steam and bash the guys you’re dating.
If there’s one thing I hate, it’s seeing someone that looks unbelievably familiar to me and not knowing where I know them from. Lately it’s been happening to me more and more. I feel like everywhere I go I run into someone I know. I mean, I know I’m famous, but this is getting crazy.
The other night I sat at the bar at The Hard Rock Cafe with my best friend, Kerry.
“Kerry, I know that man,” I said, looking at the bartender.
“I think he just has one of those faces,” she replied.
Has a friend ever made a comment about your life that was so dead-on that you were shocked you never came to the realization yourself? That happened to me this morning. Christine and I were having our morning phone conversation (aka me venting to her) and she turned around and came out with a statement that left me speechless (something that’s very hard to do).
“Every guy you date has some problem with you…and they have absolutely no issue with telling you what it is. And I can’t freaking stand it.”