At least I'm not Dan Wells
so Friday I had ever intention of being a good girl by staying late at work to finish some projects.
but at 3:30 FreshMeat e-mails me that she needs kahlúa like a hooker needs crack. by 5:30 this had evolved into Orphan, FreshMeat, and I hitting my brother's place for a few drinks before heading home. image my surprise at finding it TOTALLY spruced up! the last time i was there they had plastic chairs. now the seating area upstairs has its own bar (not fully stocked when we were there) and tvs everywhere.
and on a random note, the bartender's breasts were out of control!
as we were sipping our drinks this man named Dan Wells comes up to us. he thinks that we are all hot and should come to a party in NE with him where there will be TONS of single guys.
um, yeah.
he then claims to be married with twin boys...oh, and he's sober.
um, yeah.
later on his friend Sarah comes to chat with us and apologizes for her friend and tells us she's been meaning to tell him that he needs to work on his approach. (um, if he's married then why does he need to work on his approach?)
At this point we decide we need to go. Orphan goes home, but (as usual) FreshMeat and I decide that we need to go dancing. So we hit her place first to drink vodka and get into a deep and philosophical discussion about how the island of Lost is really Atlantis.
First we go to Nolan's for overpriced shots and dancing. Then over to Tom Tom for more overpriced drinks and dancing. This is when FreshMeat starts chatting up the dj. At some point carbombs are done (my first!). And I like to blame the vodka for making me think that what i really needed to do at this point was to take a picture of FreshMeat and the dj and send it to a friend (embarrassing moment no. 2,342,769). except that i didn't send the picture. instead i sent some nonsensical message that i had no memory of until the next day when my friend texted me to ask how drunk was i.
sigh.
At some point we decide to leave and head home. I bang my head (again) as I'm leaving FreshMeat's place, apparently stop by McDonald's on the way home, and somehow manage to drag myself out of bed the next morning to meet FreshMeat at 9 for another run to Target.
Yeah, i'm SO pretty.
but at 3:30 FreshMeat e-mails me that she needs kahlúa like a hooker needs crack. by 5:30 this had evolved into Orphan, FreshMeat, and I hitting my brother's place for a few drinks before heading home. image my surprise at finding it TOTALLY spruced up! the last time i was there they had plastic chairs. now the seating area upstairs has its own bar (not fully stocked when we were there) and tvs everywhere.
and on a random note, the bartender's breasts were out of control!
as we were sipping our drinks this man named Dan Wells comes up to us. he thinks that we are all hot and should come to a party in NE with him where there will be TONS of single guys.
um, yeah.
he then claims to be married with twin boys...oh, and he's sober.
um, yeah.
later on his friend Sarah comes to chat with us and apologizes for her friend and tells us she's been meaning to tell him that he needs to work on his approach. (um, if he's married then why does he need to work on his approach?)
At this point we decide we need to go. Orphan goes home, but (as usual) FreshMeat and I decide that we need to go dancing. So we hit her place first to drink vodka and get into a deep and philosophical discussion about how the island of Lost is really Atlantis.
First we go to Nolan's for overpriced shots and dancing. Then over to Tom Tom for more overpriced drinks and dancing. This is when FreshMeat starts chatting up the dj. At some point carbombs are done (my first!). And I like to blame the vodka for making me think that what i really needed to do at this point was to take a picture of FreshMeat and the dj and send it to a friend (embarrassing moment no. 2,342,769). except that i didn't send the picture. instead i sent some nonsensical message that i had no memory of until the next day when my friend texted me to ask how drunk was i.
sigh.
At some point we decide to leave and head home. I bang my head (again) as I'm leaving FreshMeat's place, apparently stop by McDonald's on the way home, and somehow manage to drag myself out of bed the next morning to meet FreshMeat at 9 for another run to Target.
Yeah, i'm SO pretty.
posted by vixen @ 2:19 PM
4 Comments:
At November 20, 2006 3:59 PM,
Anonymous said…
Dude, it is SO supposed to be Atlantis. The power surges, the ring shapes...i really think we're on to something. And i'd like to take this opportunity to copyright our idea, lest the fiendish Lost writers steal it from us several months from now.
At November 21, 2006 6:22 PM,
chanuck said…
"and on a random note, the bartender's breasts were out of control!"
I am so going to My Brother's place.
Oh, Lost not Atlantis. It is Purgatory.
At November 21, 2006 6:44 PM,
vixen said…
seriously. it was hard not to stare.
they were pretty amazing.
At November 21, 2006 11:45 PM,
DCSportsChick said…
Hey Chanuck, what about your wife's breasts? :-P
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