As I begin I realized I just yelled "nice fucking blinker asshole" for the 32nd time today. I also just almost had to punch a child in the neck at the barnes & noble, where I invested heavily in the "for dummies" collection, but the good news is "born in the usa" is on the radio, I have 32 beers in the fridge and I've found my Chi.
I've been working on graphics for me and A-hole's (yes, you got it…I'm K-hole) company all day and felt to go to the bookstore to buy some books to help me along. Seriously…who knew I could spend so much time in the Business and Computer aisles. (I'll include pictures later in the blog to prove I'm fun)
I decided I'd make good use of my day today though. I madea run for a border to a beer store for the first time in a while.(may I remind you dry county) Is it bad when the clerk asks "big party tonight?" I mean I'm no economist but with the price of gas, isn't it better to stock up and make less beer runs? Sweet…thought so.
Sidebar…right now I'm fascinated by an old man, WWII style, named lightening with a Mohawk on that show cheaters. amazing. Why do I have a strange feeling you'll all see me on this show one day spying on some ass master who did it again? Sweet. Again, keeping the ass in class since 1978.
On the way to the confrontation…
the confrontation…
So by the way, in case anyone needs briefing (I can also be of assistance in debriefing), I moved to TX, worked for a month for the most lame, juvenile, unethical people ever and quit because at the end of the day, I really DO respect myself. The next day I bought a second car…don't fret my little freaks I kept the Jeep, you know I'll die in that son of a gun. Meet LaFawnduh.
Then I just freaked out and bought a ticket to LA because I already felt the need for a vacation…and of course some love. Through some unexpected checks and unexpected lack of giving a shit…this all worked out nicely.
And so my journey begins. I went from
to
My figurative(if you need this definition I will recommend www.dictionary.com) ex-husband Kevin picked me up from the airport. Love him. He then took me straight to The Irish Times where everybody knows my name. I really miss those fuckers, didn't realize until I saw their faces and stupid embraces.
Me and Kevo
Below is me and my Punk Rock Dave. Photos are his favorite. You can tell.
I made my rounds trying unsuccessfully to explain what I'm doing because it really is just a shitty answer…nothing. SO I started telling people I work for the City of Dallas in a confidential crime division that falls under the martial arts wing.
Caught up on the gossip then Kevin returned minus girlfriend and we all decided to hit Boardwalk 11, the bar next door, for a little karaoke.
Here I did a special performance inducing crowd participation and lots of what I call "sexy dancing" doing my classic Pat Benetar "hit me with your best shot." I BROUGHT THAT SHIT DOWN! After making my round of hugs and kisses Kevin said "I haven't seen you move like that since we shared a stage. I mean I know that's a compliment but boy did that make me feel like a tard. Sweet. I rock at karaoke. Awesome. Hot.
Well finally Jewely, pictured below, was done working and met me back at the times from which we caught a cab to Santa Monica and went to The Pacific Dining Car. Bring your own bottle of Jordan (yes, the wine just in case there are any michael jordan or jordan catalano energy drinks out there) and get the filet.
In case you give a shit or are in Santa Monica sometime and would like to go…mmmm filet.
PDC
I think this is the pic with the fewest chins…
I got to see my pals Troy, the best Arizona proud State Farm guy you'll ever meet, and very sweet when your date stands you up…he'll fill in, and Roberta one of my favorites who I'm sure I've referenced in a previous blog as being a life saver. I also ran into crazy Jake, who along with Brower, after we'd been down in Hermosa all day, once tried to convince me to go to Vegas with them as at that point I'd never been. I still can't believe those crazy country bastards drove to Vegas that night!
I found an old ass picture from that day…check out my housewife hair…ever ago! (fuck you, it was growing out)
Please enter Popeye the Sailorman music here…
Um, this concludes Part 1. Even if part 2 is wordy I promise it will be visually stunning. End credits and roll scene to "let's get it started in here," formerly known as "let's get retarded in here."
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