My Jersey Shore Tribute

     Now I am not necessarily a fan of Jersey Shore, mainly because I've already seen oompa loompas on television before, so it's like a been there done that sort of thing. But even though those orange things are retards they have one thing I do admire. No not their acronyms. But the meaning of one in particular. DTF. I love it on so many levels.

     One thing I've always hated that men do is making a girl think they like them, then of course the girl likes them, just to get in her pants. Which leads these girls to heartache once they put out and are never called or nowadays texted again. Boys don't do that to chicks. Don't you know that there are so many women out there DTF?? There are women who do just want a random fuck and not a relationship. I've been one of them. Why not go after them? I know I know guys like the thrill of the hunt. But why play with your kill? You're just burning bridges that you could very possibly need later. Think about all her hot friends...
    
     Maybe we should have a DTF logo we can wear on our purses, shoes,wallets or whatever that let's every guy and girl know loud and clear that we're and they're DTF. That way there's no confusion when you meet someone what their intentions are. Especially women because let's face it, we can be optimists and think you not texting but once a week because you're "busy" is a sign you like us and are thinking about us when you get a spare second. No more bullshit people, because I know I hate it. If I didn't have a man at the moment I'd be wearing a DTF logo, maybe even tattoo that shit on my left breast.

     Lesson learned: Don't be like oompa loompas in looks, or intelligence, just like them morally when it comes to sex. Except don't be like that one orange fucker and cock block all your friends because you can't secure a girl who's DTF before you bring her home. And ladies if he isn't calling or texting within the hour of leaving you at your bedside then he's only DTF and nothing else.

    

The Game Changer

     First of all sorry I've been gone so long. It wasn't my intention. Went back to Vegas, and started working there. Almost moved there even but I didn't. One reason I didn't is because I met, what I told my Mother, a game changer. Yes I met a guy, a really great guy. It's weird really, always when you least expect or want it, someone amazing comes along. I hope I'm not speaking too soon on this and jinx it.

     It all started a month or so ago. I was working my ass off at the gym twice a day. Going to work to save up for my then move to Vegas. Planning my trip to Vegas for my auditions, which by the way I made. And about a couple weeks before my Vegas trip I met Frank. I met him at work. Which is out of my norm because anyone I meet at work goes into my pervy customer section of my contacts on my phone, to be deleted later in the night. And I in general never ever date someone from work. But he was different, I didn't know that at first though. I went up to his beefy ass at the bar at work because I saw he had some interesting tattoos on the backs of his arm. Curious I asked what they meant because I could tell they were in Latin. One of my favorite languages. He completely blew me off and told me to Google it. Smitten and shocked by his reaction, I complied and Googled that shit. Why? Because I wasn't going to let him know something that I didn't know. Plus I like a feisty guy that challenges me. I discovered what it meant asked him about it and he blew me off again. Ok fucker peace out. Too bad I had already seen his friends and hung out with them the past two times they had come into the club. So of course I talked to them making sure I ignored beefy, Latin tattoo guy. It was hard though because he was so cute, but I don't do rejection. I tell him he's an asshole, and his response was no I'm a nice guy. They leave. A week goes by and they all come into the club again. This time he is a nice guy. He told me he was blowing me off because he thought I just wanted his money...lol. I give him my number not expecting a damn thing. Not even two hours later I get a text from him, and we make plans to hang out the next day. Meet up, have absolutely the most incredible, mind blowing sex I've ever had, and have been together ever since.

     Why am I telling you all this? Because this was completely out of character for me. Like I said he's a game changer. I even let him read my blog. He told me after reading it that, I had been doing the opposite of everything I had been doing in my stories. I'm still waiting for this dream to end. Surely it will right? He's too good to be true. Treats me like a queen. Honestly treats me like no man has ever done before. And I constantly ask him to treat me like shit intermittently so I know he's real. I feel like a total softy now. Completely and utterly crazy about this man. So I think the saying that you have to be happy with yourself before you can be happy with someone is true. It wasn't until I got over that last horrible boyfriend and got myself back together, did I not only become a truly happy person, but I found someone to be truly happy with.

     Now this story at the moment isn't ending on a happy note. He's leaving soon for a long time. I can't believe that the thing I've been waiting for my entire life. A relationship that's truly honest and real is going to come to a halt soon. It's crazy I know to fall for someone so quickly. But my feelings for him are genuine and unlike any I've ever had before. If he's not it for me then I'm completely crazy and will adopt 30 dogs(not cats because I'm allergic and let's be honest I don't like the little shits) and be a spinster forever. I want to wait for him, I want to wait because he's worth waiting for. He has my heart and I hope he comes back with it.


Where have you been all my li ife ife ife?  Love, Goose

ps. Ladies if a man sees you crying, listens to your feelings, wipes away your tears, tells you he loves you while looking deep into your eyes, and kisses you..... he's a keeper.

So Men Created....

 Recently I joined a gym. Wanting to before but didn't because my most recent ex boyfriend told me not to join his gym and I should just walk around the block for exercise. Now that I go to "his"old gym I totally realize why he never wanted me to join...... a whole bunch of fine ass gym rats. Yes I've already bedded one. I hired a personal trainer to get me in shape, because I have some big plans coming up and me being at the top of my game is necessary. While my trainer was showing me everything he wanted me to do for my second visit in a day at the gym I realize men must have created these contraptions. Why? Because everyone looks sexual in one way or another. Crotches wide open, or asses in the air. One looked like something used in a doctor's office to do some ass procedure, any straight or gay man would love to have that one in the bedroom. All this had me thinking of all the things men must have created. And no I didn't look each up to verify, but I think I'm right on these.


 My List of Things I Think Men Created....

1. Gym equipment- like mentioned above they all look sexual, and if you look at the little diagrams on how to work the machine, just mentally add a second person to the diagram and you have porn.
2. Thongs/G-strings- well duh they'll tell us women anything is sexy to see our asses, I'm actually totally ok with this one because I like wearing them to the beach to eliminate tan lines, the only time I disagree with this is if a 60+ year old, fat, hairy wildebeest is wearing this to the beach or pool.
3. Purses- I know you might disagree with me on this one ladies but why wouldn't a man create something that is bothersome? Think about going to clubs or bars carrying one around. It's either in the way or if you can manage to set it down it's either in your lap or on the floor and you have to watch it like a hawk. So that's why I think women invented the satchel, so men will have to experience our burden. Because we all know a man is only going to hold our purse while we're trying on clothes for so long.
4. Microwave- So we can bring them their food faster. No they don't care that reheated hard shell tacos turn soft or soft shell tacos turn hard in the microwave. As long as they have their food fast! And to top it off they sometimes pretend to not know how to work it so they not only can eat fast but have nothing to do to get the end result. Think about guys asking how to get it started or them putting a poptart still in the shiny metallic wrapper in the microwave or putting in 90 minutes instead of 90 seconds. I know those fuckers aren't that dumb. They say they're the superior gender, well if you're so superior stop playing stupid to get us to do things we don't buy it anymore. Next time buy us some Bebe and see how much you can get us to do then.
5. Ambien- So they can either watch us do stupid shit for their own amusement or convince us to have sex with them. Or if they're like my ex, wait til I'm passed out to go through my cell phone and text my guy friends acting as me. All of these has happened to me. The first I don't mind because I'm normally laughing later myself. The second annoys me for obvious reasons, the most important being I ended up sleeping with some guy that had been trying and failing to hook up with me for months. The night he caught me on Ambien I was done for. That married, baby on the way, sack of shit! But on a lighter note here's some of the crazy shit I've done on Ambien.....
           a. Sent sext messages (pics included..ughh)
           b. Thought the reflection of myself in my window was Iranian women coming after me
           c. Eaten in my sleep
           d. Saw picture of a person on a cardboard box and thought someone was spying on me
           e. Thought my bed was a pirate ship and my dresser was the one from Beauty and The Beast
           f. Most recently was at my mom's and she told me the next day I was in her kitchen petting the           blinds and talking to the refrigerator. She subsequently told me not to take the Ambien to Vegas with me.
6. Make- up- Another thing for us to torture ourselves with putting on and taking off all just to look pretty for them. Well you know what? One day I'm going to apply my make up to look like Jabba the Hut and see how pretty men say I am then. And I know you can argue with me on this one to, with things like Cleopatra used make up. Yea and it was to get the attention of men. See in a round about way it's still all their fault. :)


     I'm sure I'll think of more before the days over and add them but for now this is my rant. Off to the gym to give men pretty good sexual visuals of myself on the workout equipment aka sexquipment.

To Be Single or Not to Be Single? That is The Question, Or Maybe Just Fuck Buddies...

     Sometimes like everyone else I get lonely. I think of finding a boyfriend or just giving in to one of the guys always haggling me for dates. But I stop myself, and start thinking of all the reasons NOT to be attached to someone. At this point in my life the cons out way the pros. Yes, you know I'm about to list it up.


       CONS

1. Have to respond to texts and/or phone calls within a certain period of time or you will be questioned. You know sometimes I don't feel like talking to any mother fucker. It could just be one of those days where I'm all pissy and don't give a shit. But if I was taken I could never just not respond. I'd either get bitched at, made to feel guilty, or a search team out to get me.

2. You can't keep your things the way you like them. For instance I like my sheets always tucked in the bed. My most recent ex couldn't stand tucked in sheets. I don't want to roll over while sleeping then all of a sudden all the bedding is rolling with me. Then he'd complain that I took all the blankets! Fuck you dude, don't put me in the rolling and taking position if you can't handle what happens when you do.

3. Having a bf/gf and always talking about them. This one sucks in a few ways. For one, no one really wants to hear about what's his name every second of the day. I know I've done this before and now looking back I feel like an idiot. Two, it makes you sound like you have no life, even if you do. Three, you could actually have no life and it just revolves around him/her. And that is even worse. If you have a significant other and suddenly your friends aren't calling you to go out anymore, you're doing something wrong. Or if they are and you're blowing them off, you're doing something wrong. Because from now on I'll be damned if a man comes between me and Margarita Mondays, or any of my other spending habits.

4. They don't always like your friends. This one sucks because it puts you in between two people you care about. Your man who gives you sex on a regular and your girlfriend who listens about all the problems you have with your man. Who else is going to listen to that lame ass shit and help you figure out why he refuses to leave a toothbrush at your place?

5. Having friends of the opposite sex is now an issue. I've made the mistake of ditching all my guy friends for my man before, just for my man to still dump me later for being jealous. Then of course I lost all guy friends and my man. Lose lose sista, lose lose. Jealousy is not a trait to put up with. It's insecurities brother, and neither are cute.



                                       PROS

1. You actually have someone that cares enough to send out a search team, even if you'll get bitched at later.

2.All the things they change at your place are little reminders they were there because of you.

3. You can actually brag about having a significant other.

4. If they don't like your friends then that gives you every right to not like some of his and get away with outrageous demands.

5. Someone that cares enough to think another man could take you away from him, and he doesn't want to lose you.

      All this is nothing but bullshit. My balls get busted too much when I have a man. I need adult supervision but not that kind. You liked me for who I was before we became official so don't try to change me afterwards. So skip the man and just have a fuck buddy. No stress, less mess, and no dress. Now if I could just get a man to meet my fuck buddy demands I'd be a happy girl. But I guess asking for sex once every meal break from someone who holds a steady job and has a life is too much to ask for. Hey I'm at my prime don't judge me!

Golddigger or Size Queen?

     Yes extra money laying around is nice to have but so is a big penis. So which do you choose? When you're bored both come in handy. If I had to pick one or the other I'd pick the big penis instead of the big wallet. Wallets can disappear if you use them too much, but if you use a big penis too much it'll probably stick around longer..no pun intended.

     But there is such thing as a penis that's too big. Here's a little story from my book that explains such occurrences.

     Noel, my gay ex-husband's cousin whom I lived with for about eight months or so was like a sister to me. Which made my real sister, Deanna uberly jealous, but if she had been hooking me up with guys as hot as Noel was hooking me up with she would have been Queen B. She's still my favorite sister, sometimes. Well she's my favorite when she's not on her period. I often wanted to beat Deanna up. I envisioned dragging her out the front door by her hair and giving her a good ass whooping. I never did because I knew my mother would disown me, even if it was just a gentle karate chop to the tits. It was the typical sisterly love. Noel on the other hand was chill, and easy to get along with. Probably from all the pot she smoked. This side of the family is Japanese, and whatever white people actually are. Noel was gorgeous. Nice color, long black hair, round white people eyes, no boobies (she tried to say she was a B cup, but she wasn't fooling me, padding doesn't count as part of your cup size, remember I did her chores? Including her laundry, go back to the MINOR? blog entry), and a great ass. Despite all these great attributes it still didn't stop my constant thoughts of plucking those eyebrows, they drove me nuts. No guys seemed to mind the eyebrows as soon as she told them she was part Japanese, that clever lady. We all know what goes through guys' heads when they hear a chick is Asian, freaky sex. The fact that she used that to her advantage made me proud. Like the mother of a chick that flies out of the nest for the first time.

My sort of cousin started introducing me to her friends, mostly guys. There was a couple that always stuck out in my head, Albie and Phillip. When Noel introduced me to Albie I couldn't believe my eyes. I had struck man gold! I owed Noel BIG time for this one. Albie's father is black and white, and his mother is Korean. And he's the best combination of all of those. Tall, dark and handsome. He modeled for Abercrombie & Fitch so of course his body was impeccable. We hit it off, and started hanging out several days a week.

One day I learned how much pot Albie smoked, a fucking lot! He asked me to take him to a friends house, I agreed. He was gorgeous and I wasn't going to miss out on spending anytime with him. I definitely wanted to be seen in public with him. We get to his friend's house, it was a chick. That's cool I'm alright with that. She wouldn't acknowledge my presence, that's cool too, jealous much bitch? She starts ranting about whatever drama is going on with her, boring, boring, boring. Then finally suggests we hot box it in her car. Thank freaking God! And I'm glad she said her car and not my POS, because knowing my luck the smoke would leak out the front windshield. (And a cop would just so happen to be riding past with his window down. They'd realize it before me, and get away and I'd still be stuck in the backseat on a car seat). In her car the three of us our smoking our brain cells dead. My phone rings, it's my mom. Mommy dearest needed me to pick up something from her house. I tell Albie and we head out. We weren't even three miles away from my mom's house, in the house I grew up in. In a city I spent my ENTIRE life in. I knew all the back roads by heart, and could drive them with me eyes shut. If someone told me they were by the farm on McDonough Road headed to my house, I could picture in my mind them driving, and point out the second they were about to turn onto my street. I knew my shit. Not this day. I got lost. What was supposed to be less then a seven minute drive became a 45 minute drive. “Dude you're smart, but you have no sense of direction when you're high”, says ye ol' wise one Albie. I literally drove in circles for thirty minutes before getting my bearings. As I pull up to my mom's house it finally dawns on me I'm high as a fucking kite, and to my knowledge she's never seen me high before. Play cool, play cool, my mom's a blond maybe she won't notice. Shit she's going to see I have a guy in the car and want to meet him.

      For most people this wouldn't be a big deal, but when your mom is a clown/cleaning lady/minister it is. Oh mother how ye embarrass me. And when you do so mommy dearest you know it, and always try to play it off as cutesy. She made us be a “clown family”when I was at the pubescent age of 12. Took as many family photos in this get up and made a photo album. She'd show anyone that came over to visit me. We don't even have a regular, normal people family photo album, oh no because that's not cute or embarrassing. So after awhile of me crying and complaining about her showing this photo album she stopped, unless my little sister, Deanna brought it out to share. See why I wanted to whoop her ass? It never failed, any guy I was remotely interested in would see me in the American flag parachute pants, white tuxedo jacket, painted face of what I can only describe as It's younger, more gentle, sarcastic sister, with a long red, curly haired wig. To really drive this point of embarrassment home, my clown mom became the PTA president of my middle school. That's right, she dressed as a clown when she did some of the PTA meetings. And it doesn't stop there. My mom is an ordained minister. Her favorite thing to say to people she just meets no matter how inappropriate it may be is this, “There's only two kinds of people I meet, the kind that are saved and the kind that are about to be. Which one are you?” And trying to talk anything about sex, relationships with my mother is impossible. If I ask her opinion on a guy problem her response is always, “Pray about it”. I remember asking her about sex, and people she's been with because let's face it she's been married a gazillion times. It never fails that what I ask gets her so uncomfortable that the only thing that comes out is, “That was B.C. Before Christ. You know before I became a Christian”. Imagine how frustrating it was to be a child let alone teenager in that house. But despite all my mom's quirks everyone loves her (except for the men in my life that she tortures with clown pictures and discussions of Christianity). This should give you a good idea why I was panicking when I realized I was not only high, but that there was a guy in the car. I decided this day my mother wouldn't have a chance to weave her Christian clown magic on my hottie with the body in my car. I pulled in jumped out and ran in grab said item and left. Albie thought I was nuts, I blamed it on the rain.

      Even though Albie knew his ranking in the scales of looks he preferred the woman to come and get it. I don't get this I never have. I get having confidence is hot, and if a chick comes onto a guy that's hot. But what about the ugly or average chicks that have false sense of cuteness and come onto guys? Do they still get the guy even though they aren't so hot just because of confidence? This has always confused me. Well apparently Albie liked overly confident girls period. I can be forward, but in general I'm not. And it's not that I'm not confident because I am, it's just I think a man should still do some chasing, you know just so you'll know it's not a one way affair. So weeks went by and he wasn't coming on to me. It didn't make sense. Yea we did the make out sessions but nothing further. Until one day we were at his house. He lived with his parents, yea I know what you're thinking but he had it fucking made in that big ass house I don't blame him for wanting to stay. He pulled me into his parents room and made it known that he wanted some ass. I was totally surprised for two reasons, one he finally wanted to do it, and two because he wanted to do it in his parents room. Gross. I could NEVER have sex in my parents room, let alone in their house. Even to this day I consider my parent's house a church. I'd repent for even thinking of sex while in their house. I didn't want to ruin my opportunity with Albie so I dismissed my second thought. Until he pulled it out. When I said earlier that he had all the great traits from the different races he was, this is one of them. That man was hung like a walrus, and I was scared speechless. So scared in fact I left, yep I left him on his mother's bed with his third leg out. I couldn't do it. I think I would've died if I had done it, and I didn't want to go down that way. Because I know if I went that way, my mother's revenge would be dressing me as a fucking clown and having an open casket.

     So that's the dilemma, good thing you don't run across a penis that's TOO BIG that often. That was actually the only time it had ever happened to me. But still would I rather have a big penis then a big wallet. I've had a big wallet before and I know for a fact I would've been happier if a big penis was there instead. So here's to men whom are well endowed!!! PS. Big Wallets are compensation for small penises and a LV purse isn't going to make sex feel any better.

What Happens In Vegas Stays In Vegas, Well Not This Time Part 2

     When I was booking our trip to Vegas I knew like I had mentioned before that I wanted, "balls in my face". Well when I was looking up tickets and dates I just couldn't commit to a particular show. There's like three male revues in Vegas and I just couldn't make up my mind, plus I don't really like planning. When we arrive in Vegas we see signs everywhere for the Thunder From Down Under show. It an Australian version of the Chippendale's. I think they're way hotter because they have those awesome accents. It might just be me since I have a thing for accents.

     Day one we're so exhausted probably since we both thought it was a good idea to party our ass' off the night before our 5:30am flight. We hadn't had a minute sleep since the day before. But we were stoked to be in Vegas and felt it appropriate to wonder from casino to casino checking everything out. As we're walking through the Luxor, which is one of my favorites by the way, we get waved over to a booth. They start asking if we're interested in any shows, and how much money I make a year. Find out they're trying to get people to view their new timeshare in the area and are willing to give us tickets to anything we want. I didn't know anything about timeshare but what I did know is that I wanted free tickets to Thunder From Down Under, especially since they were about $70 per ticket. What could go wrong? How bad could this be? Just a couple hours wondering around a condominium complex right? It had to be worth two free tickets and a voucher for dinner at the Luxor. HA HA HA HA HA!

     The next day we make sure we arrive in enough time to catch our shuttle from the hotel to the timeshare location. While we were making our way to the shuttle we decide to drink....a lot. I'm hammered by the time we sit down on the shuttle, with two pretzels, cheese dip and a water bottle in my purse. Quickly I realize after seeing like 20+ other couples on this bus thing that this is going to be boring as fuck, and apparently Jen and I are the only same sex couple. Looking at Jen with my drunken eyes I suggest to her we should act like we're "partners". She laughed and agreed. We kept on laughing about randomness the whole ride, mostly because we were drunk. And I'm sure everyone on that shuttle hated us. I'm sure because they tried cutting me off when I was making my way off the bus/shuttle/whatever.

     We arrive and they immediately escort us to a waiting area. What or should I say whom are we waiting for ....... Satan himself trying to get us to sell our souls for 80,000 vacations points per year. Once our escort takes us into a small conference room to see a presentation Jen and my show begins. Satan is asking us how we met, when, where, blah blah. I tell him we met in high school, which is actually the truth. But the not so truth that we're life partners. "I had to get married to a man and have children before I realized she was the one for me", as I look lovingly into her "I hate you for trying to make me laugh" eyes, and stroked her back. And it worked, I couldn't believe he was buying it, maybe I should look into acting. After one very boring presentation where we were told we can't use the restroom during, a few long stares of love, and a couple affectionate strokes we were off to look at the property. It wasn't bad actually, it really reminded me of an upscale retirement facility with a casino for the price of $15,876 down and a monthly payment of $1,175 for the next 7,465 months. Presentation, tour, and my buzz over, now we were lead to a very large and open conference area. Satan offers us sandwiches that had been there for days and a water. We sit now here comes the possible collection of our souls. Good God those prices are ridiculous, and every time I say I'm not interested the price goes down, and a manager pops up. I see they have the voucher for our free shit in their hand unsigned, and I feel so close to the light at the end of the tunnel. I swear they were waving that voucher in front of our faces just to see if we'd take their bait. Not me, ohhhhh not me. Jen's playing good cop, that bitch, while I have to be the bad cop. Normally no problem for me playing either because I can be a charming angel as well as a bitch with no transitional period in between, ask either of the ex husbands. As Jen is giving me the it's all up to you look like we are really life partners, and Satan breathing down my neck I snap. "I am ready to leave now, I'm hungry and I don't want to be here any more." Satan chimes in, "Well there's sandwiches over there." Rage has now filled my body and is taking over like a virus. After a few more minutes I get them to sign our voucher for the free shit that I'm now thinking isn't worth it because I just want to leave. The sirens of the casino have been calling my name for about three hours now.

     Now sitting in a much smaller waiting room, a woman, I guess Satan's wife offers us the same deal but for only $189 down and $189 a month. They've got to be fucking kidding me. How did we go from my soul to $189 a month? They are out of their fucking minds. Yes I was tempted with this deal, but I still had to say no just for the principle of it all. So she takes us to ANOTHER waiting room. We sit there for a few minutes watching a Vegas Drag show, why didn't they offer tickets to that? I might have spent my soul if they had had one of those Drag Queens giving us the presentation and tour. We get called to a little office where this petite Hispanic woman asks us what tickets do we want, shows over I'm not her life partner any longer when it comes to hot naked men. "Thunder From Down Under please", I say. She leaves the room and Jen leans over to tell me something. "Hey you remember when you were texting on the escalator and was a bit behind us?" "Yes?" I suspiciously ask. "Well he whispered to me that he could tell who wears the pants in our relationship". Damn straight Satan, me! Yes I might've been wearing a sundress, with BCBG wedges, but I for damn sure wear the fucking pants in my relationships, real ones or fake lesbian ones it doesn't matter.


    

    

What Happens In Vegas Stays In Vegas, Well Not This Time

     Well I made it back alive and out of any legal trouble, just in case you were wondering. But I did have a faux wedding, and a lesbian relationship for a day.

     I'll start with the faux wedding. Jennifer and I decided before we even got to Vegas we had a few things we wanted to do while we were there. One being seeing naked men dance in front of our faces, I forgot the second one already, and the third being get married to piss off our mothers. We'd settle for slight cardiac arrests. The most important reason we wanted to get married to a random man in Vegas is for their home location. In hopes their home location being of an exotic location. So of course we'd have a vacation spot with free room and board. I was shooting for a man from Maui or the like and Jen was dreaming of a summer vacation on a villa in Puerto Rico with her new hubby. Maybe we could even talk them into buying their lovely new brides tickets to their new hometowns.Or we could at least vacation during our annulments.

     Honestly after our first day in Vegas I completely forgot about this part of our to do list. We met so many people it was hard to decide what to do and who to do. I think it was our second night after we stumbled out of club number four of the night that we ran into a few guys from Vegas. Well not originally but they were locals and funny as shit. My feet were killing me and as I was giving into the pain and taking my heels off that's when we ran into them. One offered to carry me. I was leery about accepting, not because he was a stranger but because I thought I was going to break his back. Once I quizzed his physical abilities I gave in. He only had 10lbs on me. I'll have to give him props he didn't drop my drunk ass. Fifty feet later we got into a cab, all five of us. I proceeded to bitch at the cab driver about driving us through the strip and not the highway. It had only taken me a day of $30+ cab rides to realize their "shortcuts" were taking us an additional five fucking miles out of the way. At least I caught onto those bastards sooner then later. Plus I kept wondering why we had to go onto the interstate just to get to the opposite end of the strip. In the cab I must have done a lot of complaining over achy feet because I was getting foot rubs, and I hope Jen did too. We get to our hotel make our way to the room. I immediately changed out of my dress and into sweats. That's why I look like a ninja in the pics above at the wedding chapel. We all decided to leave the hotel for reasons I'm still unclear of. I just remember when we stumbled out I saw a wedding chapel and it dawned on me that that was our plan. So I proposition the men. Marry us, like now. Ok not a proposition more like a demand. They happily agreed, Score!! If I would've known it was this easy to marry a hot man I would've done it a long time ago. Well you see the pics so you know how it goes. The one where we're all mooning the camera man is going to be my Christmas card this year. Yep my lily white ass is what you have forward to this holiday season. For our wedding reception we tried calling all the numbers in the book of ads for 70+ year old women or gay men to come celebrate with us. I swear to God it sounded like the same bitch answering the phone every time no matter what number we dialed. My last call to such bitch ended like this.

Bitch: (with too much attitude to be an escort answering service representative) What do you want? You need to call from a hotel number because I don't believe you want a woman to come give you lap dances when you call from a long distance number.
Me: I just want a 70+ year old woman to give us a lap dance. And everyone here is from out of town so what does that matter?
Bitch: Well I just don't believe you blah blah blah blah
Me: Well you're a cunt C-U-N-T, cunt
Bitch: No I'm not, you sound like a teenager, I bet you're not even old enough to get in a casino.
Me: Why the fuck didn't you just hang up on me when I called you a cunt then spelled it out?

     Dumb ass bitch I think I'm going to give her a buzz this week for a lil pow wow. Maybe she'll be willing to meet for lunch next time I go to Vegas. I like long distance relationships.