"I own half of this place."

Two in one day? I know. The world might explode. Hopefully not, though, because as I mentioned, I am really looking forward to going out tonight.

Anyway, this blog might be one of those stories that you just had to be there for. But then again, it might not. You tell me.

So my favorite bar/club in Milwaukee is Decibel/DeepBar. This is not a secret. In fact, I probably go there a good 3-4 times/week. Hopefully they aren't going to start charging me rent.

Anyway, when you frequent an establishment, you start getting to know the employees at such a place, as well as other regulars.

So, Saturday, I spent the day in Chicago with Christina, a Decibel regular. It was a ton of fun, and totally random. She just called me in the morning and asked if I wanted to go to Chicago. I asked to do what, and she said whatever. We drove on down, got pedicures, went to the Art Institute, did some shopping, had a nice dinner, and fed about 5 homeless people. All in all, it was a great Saturday!

When I got back to Milwaukee, I took a little nap, and then LL and I went to Cush to say hi, had a drink (VIP treatment, too, holla! haha).... From Cush, we obviously went to Decibel. It was a good night, as usual.

Near the end of the night, we were standing by the back bar, which is where we are usually to be found, when a man.... Ok, not a man. A VULTURE came to holla. He was older, like 35 or 40.

I don't even remember him saying hi. All of the sudden, he just tells us that he owns the place.

"Oh really?!" I asked him.

He then explains that yes, he does in fact own the place.

I then told him that that was amazing, as I know all four of the owners.

He then tried to say that he actually owns half of the place, because they were having financial hardships a couple months back, so he bought it.

This was hilarious to me. I informed him that Decibel had only been open 5 months, that they were doing fine, and that there was no way he was going to convince me that he was one of the owners.

I am so mad at myself! There were so many better ways that I could've put this shameless vulture in his place, but in my shock and drunkeness, I wasn't able to.

Here are a couple examples of what I SHOULD have done.

I should have told him that I have a friend that really loves Decibel, and that he would love to meet the owner. I then should've taken this vulture by the hand and brought him straight up to one of the three owners that was there that night, and said, "________ (Dustin, JJ or Drew), I know you love Decibel, so I thought you'd like to meet this guy - he just told me he owns the place. Isn't that awesome?!"

That would've been ideal. It wouldn't have even been difficult to pull off. Damn, I am mad that I didn't do that!

Another one that would've been good would've been to ask him to identify the bartenders by first name, since I knew that it was Shawn and JC behind the bar we were nearest. That would've been awesome.

And damn, I should've asked him to comp a drink for me, to watch him talk to Shawn or JC as though he owned the place.

Oh well.

I did get some enjoyment, though, out of this.

Once the dude walked away (with his feathered tail between his legs), Shawn started cracking up.

"I heard that whole thing go down, and that shit was hilarious. That guy picked the wrong girls to say that to!"

Indeed, Shawn, he did indeed.

I can't wait to tell this story tonight....

But seriously, how shameless are some folks? I didn't even ask what the man did (I rarely do - doesn't matter that much to me), and he just offered me a flat out lie.

I wonder what he really did. Work at PDQ or something?

I guess I should look at it positively - LL and I are people that people are trying to impress, and our favorite place is somewhere that people pretend they own to impress people. Props all around, except to that douchebag!

Holla!

Lunchtime = over. Time to teach some 7th grade French Math!

Go shawty, it's your birfday....

Today's birthdays are spectacular, to say the least, and you better believe my ass will be at Decibel tonight celebrating....

The holiday is National Comic Book Day. That's kinda lame. But it is definitely compensated for by the fact that these precious gems will be celebrating their birthdays tonight, and LL and I will be celebrating right along with them....

Scottie Pippen. Ah, yes. I had quite a crush on this man. He even looks fly in his mugshot! Holla!

Cheryl Tiegs. She's 60. Damn. And yes, she made today's list just because she is in the Thanksgiving Song by Adam Sandler. Otherwise, I would not give a damn!

Michael Douglas..... I will wear some of the bottled version of you this evening in your honor. It's also your wife's birthday. How cute is that! You and Catherine Zeta-Jones (who is too fly for the list) can celebrate together. Awww....

By the way, also too fly for the list are Will Smith (hawt!) and Heather Locklear (Scha-wing!). Just sayin'.

Barbara Walters is 76. That is one hip, hip lady. A hip, chick, if you will, at 76!

Shel Silverstein! One of my favorite poets.... It would be his birthday today, if he were still alive! Love him....

And at midnight, which is likely to be before we go out anyway (we will have to celebrate the aforementioned birfdays retroactively)....

Yes, that's right. Olivia Newton John.

AND!

Linda Hamilton. Holla!

As some people know, I had a huge crush on Arnold Schwarzenegger growing up. That means I watched more than my fair share of the Terminator movies. It also means that I developed a girl-crush on Linda Hamilton, who became a hero of mine, once I saw how ripped she was in T2. DAY-UM!

I do not even know what sort of shot would be appropriate to honor such individuals. Rest assured, though, that I will be mulling it over the rest of the day.

Who wakes up on Sunday morning and can't wait for Tuesday night? WHO DOES THAT? I do.

This week is going to be weird.... For several reasons. First of all, LL is going to be going out of town Thursday - Sunday, which means that I won't be with my normal partner in crime on Thursday or this weekend.

Also, I am pretty sure that I am going to churn out three blogs this week, including this one. Maybe even four. Wowsers! No promises, though....

Alright, ya girl's hungry as a mo-fo! Time to go get some cousins!

Who does that?

Mama Seuss has e-mailed me and called me to inform that today marks one month since my last blog. I feel like it's confessional or something.... Although since I am not Catholic, I can't say that I really know what that's like. I feel like on TV and movies, the people say "somethin' somethin' somethin', and it's been ____ (length of time) since my last confessional."

Well, it's been one month since my last blog. I know, bru-tal. But let me tell you, it is difficult to blog when you have no job other than modeling and you have to go out to the bars every single night. Please take a couple minutes to feel sorry for me because of the brutal summer I've endured.

Ok, sympathy time over.

My motto for the summer, I think, has been, "Who does that?"

The response every time?

"I do."

That's right.

A couple weeks ago, I went to Vegas for the Lingerie Americas tradeshow.

A couple weeks before that, I was in NYC for the same show.... Here are a couple pictures from that trip that I took with a model who goes by "Acie." No, I am not naked. The photographer shopped off my strap.

Anyway, Vegas was absurd. I only gambled $1, and it wasn't even by choice.

Who goes to Vegas and only puts $1 in a slot machine? WHO DOES THAT?

I do, bitches!

Most of the time that I was there was spent working in the tradeshow. I know it sounds easy, but standing around in lingerie in a freezing cold ballroom is pretty tough, especially when you're only accustomed to sleeping late and laying around.

Getting to Vegas was a little brut. My flight was taking off at 6am on a Saturday morning. I decided the best plan of attack (P of A, if you will, and I know you will!) was to go to Decibel (obviously) and then to leave straight from there to go to O'Hare. Dustin even said I could put my luggage in the office. How sweet, right?!

Original plan was for me to stay sober and drive myself, but it ended up that my sweet lil roommate had to go to IL for a wedding anyway, so she stayed home whilst I got hammered with LL and her roommate Joee. Danielle then picked me up at about 3:30 and we made our way down to O'Hare.

I was a little nervous because I was totally hammered. I remembered kinda talking to Buddha on the phone during the trip. I also remember being upset because when Danielle picked me up, I asked her to take me to McDonald's to get a three cheeseburger meal, and they were only serving breakfast at that time. Bru-tality.

I changed clothes in Danielle's front seat, so as to not be on the plane looking like I was going out to Vegas to start a career as a prostitute. I didn't want to be the girl in the mini skirt on the 6am flight. At least not that day! Somehow in this shuffle, I left one of my favorite shoes in Danielle's car, so when I got to Vegas, it was minus a stiletto.

Tried to go to the McDonald's in O'Hare, but the same breakfast-only struggle was in full effect. I decided that I Should eat anyway, to avoid hangover, so I got a cinnamon roll. I couldn't even enjoy it, because it wasn't a cheeseburger.

I love cheeseburgers. The only person I know that loves cheeseburgers more than me is Lers. She even has a tshirt that says "I <3>

Lers responded, "Yes, I am making a statement. The statement is, 'if you have a cheeseburger, hand it over.'"

Goodness gracious, I love that girl. Even more than I love cheeseburgers. Haha.

Anyway, back to the story.... I was so nervous at the airport. Paranoid. I was confessing to the woman in line in front of me for security that I was very very drunk. Heehee.

Once I got on the plane, I was out, which was a miracle, because I think I was sitting in the middle. Or maybe the aisle? Who knows. I just know I didn't have anything to lean on.

Woke up, got off the plane, and was still drunk. It was like 9am Vegas time, 11am Milwaukee time.

I called my traveling companions, who were driving in from Wisconsin, and they said they were an hour away, which I know really means three hours away. So I decided to sit in the airport awhile, since I figured that that would be the place I would look most normal sitting around with a lime green suitcase.

I talked on the phone for awhile, and then got bored with the airport.

At this point, I would kill a man for a cheeseburger.

Not a lie.

Anyway, I take a shuttle over to the Venetian, and sit around there on the phone, waiting more for my traveling companions. I don't think I ever got a cheeseburger the whole time I was in Vegas, but I did when I got back!

Most of the rest of the time in Vegas was pretty uneventful. Went out for some nice dinners, did a moderate amount of drinking.... Tradeshow a lot....

Then came the last night.

First on the agenda after we took down the tradeshow stuff was to go to a couple other tradeshows, such as the Storerotica show. This is just like it sounds. It is a tradeshow where exhibitors present their products to adult stores.

That started off with us getting free samples of a very genius product, which was a margarita popsicle which contained tequila. Yum yum! We then were offered other interesting samples, such as samples of organic lube (apparently a recipe that is over 100 years old - wahoo!), and pens advertising different companies such as twisted cherry. We were even given capsules, which were apparently supposed to enhance mood, energy level, and sexual performance. I don't know about you, but I am not the type of girl to just take any random pills that some chick in a corset and thong hands over to you, even if said pills are a pretty purple color that perfectly matches the chick's corset (haha).

There were some interesting people at such a convention, including (but not limited to) prostitutes, porn stars and no shortage of dirty old men. Perfect!

Downstairs from this classy event was the "Gentleman's Club Owner Convention." There were some classy individuals wandering around for that, too, as I am sure you can imagine. And apparently, later, Ron Jeremy was supposed to be handing out some kind of awards for exotic dancers or something. What an honor!

After these fun situations, we decided we were famished. So a big group of us went together to a buffet, which was glorious. MmmmMmmmm. I ate a lot. That's all there really needs to be said about that, haha.

Then we decided we were going to have a drink or two, after a little gambling. I decided instead to socialize with my traveling companions, as it were, so I sat in front of a slot machine without really gambling, until one of my friends told me to put a dollar in. I wasn't feeling that machine, so I knew it wasn't going to go well. It didn't. Oh well, only $1! And, I'll have you know, the only dollar I gambled. Or at least I am pretty sure that that was all I gambled.

Oh well. From there, it was time to go and have a few drinks. It was at this point that I introduced a few people to one of my drinks of choice, which was a vanilla vodka and Sprite. YUM! They loved it. We had several.

Then I joked about how it was time for shots.... JOKED! Well, that wasn't a joke long, and soon there was my crazy Uncle Pat Ron, who always comes around and makes things a little crazy. This time was no exception.

Here's a snapshot of the carnage..... Mind you, this is four adults drinking.

After all that, we decided to part ways to our hotel rooms. It was about 2am. So I quickly packed up my neon lime green rolling suitcase (which is small enough to be a carry-on), and changed from a "going out" shirt to an "I <3>

So I bid my traveling companions adieu and went downstairs to the casino, mind on gambling.

Well, apparently, I didn't get the memo that says if you walk around Vegas in a denim mini skirt and "I <3>

The next thing I knew, I was in Denver.

Not a lie.

One minute I am in the casino, thanking some random dude for a shot of Patron, and the next minute I am waking up on a plane in Denver.

At this point, I have no idea how I got to the airport (my wallet was not missing any money at all). I have no idea how I got my ticket (I hadn't checked in online or printed out a boarding pass or anything) or made it through security, especially since my mom had warned me "not to get too fucked up" or, according to her, they wouldn't let me on the plane.

I'm ok with being in Denver, because that is where my layover was. I had done something right.

I had also done something wrong, though.

My purple velour track suit jacket was on, which was cool. Pants were on, too, but they were hanging around my neck the way Alex P. Keaton wore his sweaters.... Hot! (I feel the need to mention that I did have a skirt on. Haha)

This was not the worst part.

I had no luggage!

I vaguely remembered realizing earlier that I didn't have luggage at some point, but then convincing myself at the time that I must've checked it.

I didn't think "What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas" applied to my damn luggage!

So, I asked an airport employee (who was very helpful, and also a bastard) and he called the Vegas airport as well as my hotel and checked the plane and such. No luck. He put me on a later flight to Chicago, and I called my mom to tell her what had happened.

At this point, it's like 9am, and I am still drunk. Again. Just like the way out there.

So I call my mom and tell her that she has to pick me up a little later. I also explain the struggle, which she doesn't really react to on the phone. She tells me she'll get me.

So then I put my pants on like a normal person and put the skirt in my purse, and get on my flight.

Flyin' first class, thanks to the guy who switched my flight. Nice, except I was drunk and upset, so I didn't get to fully enjoy it. Slept almost the entire time, with the exception only to eat a chicken caesar salad, which was pretty good.

Got to Chicago, and the flight attendant or pilot or whoever she was that was sitting next to me says, "wow, you slept a lot!"

All I could muster is that I was really tired.

So I get to the airport, and get a hug from my mom, who starts gushing about how she's so proud of me, because I must've had such a good time the night before.

Only my mom, seriously!

Finding our car had a couple obstacles, but nothing insurmountable.

When we got to the car, my mom had two sirloin tip burritos from Tacos El Ray waiting for me. The best thing about Racine aside from my fam and friends is definitely the food. Tacos El Ray is completely amazing.

She knew I needed a bit of cheering up, so she got me a burrito to eat right away (took me like three sittings, because when I am hung over, I am never hungry!), and a burrito for later. Awesome!

And, like only my mom can, she was cracking me up with ridiculous jokes about the situation, such as....

"At least you don't have to unpack. Unpacking is the worst part of vacation anyway."

"At least I don't have to help you carry anything upstairs."

"I'm forever the optimist. My suitcase is always full, I just don't know where the fuck it is."

Hahahahahahha. She is hilarious.

Anyway, the story's not over. The day following my return, I set out to call cab companies. The fourth one I called had my bag. Apparently, I just got out of the cab and bothered neither to pay, nor bring my luggage with me. Sweet.

A photographer that I know was still in Vegas at the time, so he went and took care of it. My bag is supposedly en route. I haven't gotten it yet, though. I can't wait!

I'm currently struggling, because there are a lot of important things that I use frequently in the bag, like my flatiron, my makeup (I've been using my reject makeup), my curling irons, some jewelery, cute clothes, and one of my favorite shoes (the other one is in my bedroom, since I left it in Danielle's car).

Can't complain too much, though, because I feel like the luckiest person in the United States for just being able to locate such luggage. It sucked that I had to pay $25 in addition to the $17 cab fare to get it shipped to me, but I'll take it.

Alright. I promise the next blog will be much sooner.

Oh! And this Saturday, I am going on a wifebeater bar crawl. The temptation is great to wear my "I <3>