I had a couple cocktails with a couple friends.
Then we left and I ate In and Out and drunk dialed inappropriately.
Sounds about right.
Sounds about right.
1) Yes, my dog came out of my vagina. Are you fucking slow?
2) Yes, my dog is infinitely more important than you or whoever the fuck you are.
3) His name is Wagandstuff pronounced WAG-EN-STUFF. Get it right or pay the price. The price being the time of fucking day from this Golden Goose.
[UPDATE: I don't remember posting this AT ALL. It probably means I was blogging while blackout drunk. That's scary to me. I'm going to leave this up for myself as a reminder to get my shit together. I sound like an insane person.]
[UPDATE 2: OK, I remembered what happened which means I wasn't blacked out and I would actually reiterate the majority of this message to the gentleman who it was directed toward (this dude who's asked me out a few times and relentlessly ragged on my relationship with Wags) but in a far nicer, less insane sounding way. Still, I'm keeping this here because sometimes I scare myself.]
Kendall picked up Ryan at the airport after she got out of work and they are on their way to my place now. We're going to go get crunk together. I will probs have some insane pictures/stories tomorrow.
]]>1: We could go to Barney's.
2: BEANERY?
1: Yeah.
2: Yeah, and like... get finger banged.
1: I know, by a guy in an American Eagle button-down.
2: If you wanna get finger fucked in the bathroom of a bar, go to Barney's.
This is where I'll be tonight:
GUERRILLA GAY BAR COMMUNIQUE No. 42
Greetings, guerrillas,
Now we're not the world's most physical guys, but this month's target is...
Lola's
945 N Fairfax Ave
West Hollywood, CA 90036
Google map: http://maps.google.com/maps?hl=en&ie=UTF8&q=945+N+Fairfax+Ave+West+Hollywood,+CA+90046&fb=1&geocode=6367375403407721985,34.087857,-118.361873&cd=1&z=16&iwloc=cent&om=0
This Friday, January 18 at 10 PM , the revolution lands just a stone's
throw from the West Hollywood strip, at Lola's, where there are over
50 martinis on the menu, and the kitchen's open past midnight.
MIXED UP, MUDDLED UP, SHOOK UP WORLD (except for Lola's)
You know the drill comrades:
RSVP at http://events.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=events.detail&eventID=396906.26184
(we've already got 100 people there - this will be a big one...)
Bring your friends, but first tell 'em to sign up for our email list
at http://www.guerrillagaybar.com/ , so they'll be the first to hear
about all of our future takeovers. Make one of 'em your designated
driver.
Take care of your bartenders, and the rest will take care of itself.
NOW I'M NOT DUMB BUT I CAN'T UNDERSTAND
This month's dress code is a tie. Bow tie, neck tie, bolo tie,
Avril-style belt: you decide, but look snappy, it's a martini bar!
Bring a camera to take photos to add to our photopool at
http://flickr.com/groups/ggbla/.
POSSIBLE KINKS
Did we mention there are already 100 people who have told us they're
planning on coming on the RSVP page? So, you may want to plan to be
earlier than 10 PM to be sure to get in (or else plan on waiting in
line for a bit!)
We'll see you Friday, comrades.
Viva la revolution!
Guerrilla Gay Bar HQ - Special Ops
END GUERRILLA GAY BAR COMMUNIQUE No. 42
]]>I had a couple cocktails with a couple friends.
Tonight I went out with Ed and some other people. Jordan, Ben, et c. My friend Eric joined up and allowed me to be mean to him like I almost always am. I'm senselessly mean...but like, in a fun way. He keeps coming back, I guess it can't be that bad. I guess it's whatevs.
The bouncer was a total babe in the conventional way that I never really go for but it was all "whatevs" tonight. He had long hair like a poet and a face like a modern day Shakespearian actor. He was from Gloucester, MA. That reminds me of a Beatrice Potter book, anyone else? Anyway, he looked like he had been off doing theater in some Edinburgh hole in the wall for the past six months, so I gave him my number. This is very not me, and a move that I was referring to as "boldacious" all night. Like bold and bodacious in one word. You get this bit. I was doing a bit. It's whatever. I don't have to explain myself to you people. You get it or you don't. But here's the thing: Wouldn't you eat nearly anything that was described as "boldacious"? Especially if whatever was being described was manufactured by the Frito Lay people? Snacks? Whatever. It's a whole bit. It's my "boldacious" bit. Fuck you guys. It's just whatever.
I only have two cigarettes left and very very thin pants on that aren't pants as much as they are leggings. This means I gotta stop smoking or go out and buy more cigs with the thin pants, as changing isn't an option. I've made a commitment to pass out in what I'm wearing, and if I were to go back on that commitment, i would know that I'm not good for my word. I knew when I put on clothes tonight that I was going to fall asleep in this outfit, thus its comfiness. It totally satisfies my urge to be comfy, but completely fails in the warmth department. Also, your mother is a whore.
I keep rubbing my eyes. There was gross drugs in the bathroom tonight at the bar. Totally gross. People gross me out. Oh, I have a lot of thoughts that I've been meaning to share re: men and dating. Like, when you realize that the dude you're dating is a racist or signs you may be dating a coke addict. I don't usually write about boys on this blog anymore or anywhere really because who actually needs to know about any of that stuff? Honestly, I would prefer to not know about it, so I certainly wouldn't subject anyone who reads this to it, ya know? It's really all just a bunch of LA bullshit... but seriously, there's some real noteworthy stuff I've been learning recently and I feel like I should be sharing it with the masses because i don't know if everyone's noticed yet or not, but I'm pretty awesome and usually always right. If not right, then I'm awesome anyway. You can't say that about most people.
OK, I'm going to go find cigarettes in my hallway and smoke some and hang out in my bathroom. Oh, that's another thing I never talk about on this blog., I spend a lot of time in my bathroom hanging out and making faces in the mirror. I play with my face all day. I also talk to myself and sing to my dog and do weird voices. It's actually really normal. Most people do it and they don't realize it or they do realize it and they can't admit it.
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Friday 11:58 AM: I just read this and I'm posting it even though it makes very little sense and I sound... insane?
Have you ever woken up after a night of heavy drinking and remembered something about singing "Shoop" on stage the night before?
While grinding against your best friend?
With 300 gay men cheering you on?
Yeah, it was karaoke night last night at Fiesta.
Ed has the video on his camera, which may or may not be posted depending on when I can get it from him and how completely heinous the two of us are. (So, you're probs never going to see it.)
As I sat down to write about what happened last night, I suddenly realized that I am unsure of most of the details myself. The night started with Ed and I driving through Glendale slightly lost and ended with me vomiting chicken fingers into my bathroom sink. Those are some of the only details I am sure of.
I also know that I got free drinks for being from Massachusetts, there is video of me behaving HORRENDOUSLY in the bathroom (that video will never be seen by anyone but me, but let's just say there is actual footage of me, taken by Ed, pressed up the tile of a public restroom wall, talking to the camera about my "fitness". Then I start yelling something about the Babyshambles.) I'm 99% sure that I was more drunk and rowdy than anyone else in the room, and then all that was topped off when I got busted by the bartender for bringing my drink outside and again later when I gave Ed a huge hickey on the front of his neck.