Guest Blogger: Crasskins! Go Ahead, Make My Day

Tonight’s the night. Tonight’s the night. Tonight’s the NIGHT!!! After weeks invested, I’m pretty sure I’m getting laid tonight. She’s the kind of girl that was so hot, I’d never thought she’d like a geek like me. Still, I’d been wining and dining this girl for some time now. She wanted to take things slow as she had just gotten out of a long term relationship. That’s cool, I can understand that. I’m sensitive and compassionate like that, yo. However, I think she was impressed by my awesome cooking skills. I can make a serious fettuccini. Plus, I hadn’t even cooked my specialty yet, Soyaki Pork Chops with a yakisoba side.

“What’s up,” I asked, my voice two forced octaves lower.

“Hey! Is it cool if I still if I come over?” she asked.

“Yeah…you should totally CUM over,” I answered smoothly.

“What was that? Why do you sound so weird? Are you sick?”

“Oh, uh” I responded clearing my throat, “no…nothing….anyway you should totally swing by,”

“Cool, I just need to swing by the store to pick up some…safety items,” she giggled.

PROTECTION!?! Yes! I am TOTALLY getting laid tonight. We got off the phone and I prepared my room for its inevitable transformation into The Love Cove. Old boxers thrown in the closet? Check. Porn mags pushed far enough under the bed to not be noticed? Check. Dumbbells pseudo-haphazardly left in a prominent position in the room? Check. Okay. Ready, go!

She arrives. I let her in. Making out begins. There is groping. There is moaning. There is a Wal-Greens bag on my nightstand she has brought over. As things reach the point of no return, she reaches into the bag and pulls out a small box.

“Here put this on,” she demands.

I fumble around like Helen Keller before finally giving in and turning on a light.

Whoa! “What is this?” I question.

“What do you mean?” she inquires back.

“These are Magnums,” I exasperate.

“Oh! Is this one of your “anti-consumer” things? Do you not use them because they’re not made in America or something?”

“Uh…..no, that’s not generally why I don’t use them…”

“Well, I’m sorry,” she apologized “I’m not used to buying condoms, I don’t know much about them. I just bought the ones my EX used to always buy, so I trust the brand” she explained.

“Oh? These are the kind your ex used, huh? That’s cool…” I diverted, “uh, I’m kinda hungry…how do Pork Chops sound about now?”

Jana + 3 Cosmopolitans = Sloppy Abusive Jackass

I decided last night at three a.m. drunk and sobbing for no apparent reason that maybe martinis aren't all the fun I thought they were. A few weeks ago I went out and had one martini, and had a blast with my cousin. I was convinced it was the path to a good time and the best way to jump start your night. I should have left the martinis in the past.

I'm not clear what went wrong. Actually I think it was a combination of my hormone levels mixed with all the alcohol. I verbally assaulted someone I have respect for. I told my boyfriend to fuck off. I'm not sure if I did these things before or after I was fist pumping on the dance floor with Michelle. I even turned down a copy of the new Sherlock Holmes stating "I heard that movie sucks". That's not even true...everyone I talked to said its really good.

After going through the 85 or so photos on my camera I was able to piece the night together, kind of. I don't think I totally blacked out but that depends on what your definition of blacking out is. I had no recollection of some conversations I had until the person reminded me after sobering up. Then I kind of recalled...Does this mean I blacked out?? Is there a black out curve? Does ones definition of blacking out change based on how much they themselves want to black out? Do people strive to do this? Wtf?

I reached new heights of embarrassment when I had to call those I offended to make amends. There is no room for pride in these phone calls. People generally understand but that doesn't take back that below the belt comment and I'm sure they will forever maintain that I think, they think, they are better than everyone. *head desk*

In the photo shown at the top of the post I look really serious and pissed off. I was intoxicated and really concentrating on not spilling my drink. WHY DO THEY SERVE MARTINIS IN THESE GLASSES? The bartender wised up and served me my last drink in a red wine glass to reduce spillage. Bless his heart. When it was time to close my tab I was reduced to using my fingers to do the math for the tip. I'm still not sure if I counted right.

LoLz at getting wasted and making an ass of yourself. Next time I'll have a glass of water between each drink ;) Chow.